Kin sprang to her feet, returning the howl with a long, clear note. We’re coming! Kakashi released Ryouma’s throat, untangled himself, and hauled Ryouma upright by the wrist. “Lieutenant's found the captain.”

“Shit,” Ryouma said, rolling his shoulders. “This could get ugly. The lieutenant’s gonna have traps laid. And even that one’s gonna notice if the captain punches it.” He nodded at Baiji, the big mastiff, who scratched his ear unconcernedly.

“He,” Kakashi corrected. “That’s Baiji. This is Kin. She—” he pointed to the grey dog still watching them from the top of the waterfall, who was built more closely on wolf lines, “is Tsuyoshi. And the captain would have to catch them first.”

Kin circled Ryouma curiously, nosed his hand, then took off into the treeline at a speed most two-legged creatures couldn’t match. Baiji followed her, graceful despite his size. Tsuyoshi slipped away between blinks, vanishing like a shadow.

“Try not to throw up,” Kakashi told Ryouma, grabbed his shoulder, and translocated them both to the original howl’s source.

They landed on a moss-covered branch the width of a table, deep enough in Konoha’s forest that the light was deep green and the air smelled like warm mulch. Ryouma staggered, but didn’t fall, throw up, or punch Kakashi. He wiped a thin nosebleed away and crouched, squinting down at the forest floor below.

Pakkun landed at Kakashi’s side and said, “We’re recruiting now?”

“You prefer less help?” Kakashi shot back.

The vicious hiss of a wire and a distant, cut-off yelp snapped their attention sideways.

“Nao,” Pakkun said. “Idiot.” He leapt out of the tree, sprinting down the thick trunk.

Kakashi spared three heartbeats to put senses and scent together — all six dogs; Genma’s recent presence, hidden again; Raidou’s chakra, also hidden, but dense enough to bend the universe just a little, to the north — and dropped down after Pakkun. Ryouma followed, regaining balance and equilibrium as he fell. By the time he hit the ground, he was steady again.

Pakkun had vanished into the undergrowth.

There was another distant twang, followed by a furious yowl. Sho’s chakra dimmed.

Genma wouldn’t kill a summons, but Kakashi still ran. Ryouma followed.

He found Nao first, dangling from a gnarled, thorny tree by a wire caught around one hock. Another wire wrapped around his muzzle. The lanky mountain dog was holding very still, nervously watching the lethal thorns that drifted by his eyes with every gentle swing. Pakkun, delicately picking his way up through the branches, muttered a number of choice phrases about Nao’s competence.

Even if they cut Nao down, he’d be limping and slow. Kakashi broke the connection; the mountain dog vanished like a dispelled clone, leaving an empty noose. Pakkun paused, gave Kakashi a disgruntled look, and stretched up to sniff the loop of wire.

“Shiranui,” he confirmed. “Smells like chakra.”

“Don’t touch it,” Kakashi said, and kept moving.

He avoided a half-dozen snares on his way to Sho, warned by scent, luck, and little glimmers of chakra coiled through the wires. You could almost admire Genma’s time-management — and Kakashi might have, if it weren’t messing with his pack. Sho was a younger dog, relatively inexperienced. Not one Kakashi would have summoned for a real hunt, but perfect for a practice run.

And currently suspended in a chakra-binding net.

Over caltrops.