Try as he might, Howl's search for a trail would come up empty-handed... or, perhaps more appropriately, empty-nosed. Howl would not find anything, and most likely never will, at least so long as he carries on searching this room. There isn't a sliver of scent nor telltale footprint to be found in here, no matter how hard one searches. Or, for that matter, anything that looks out of place.

It's just a room. A windy, but otherwise normal room.

In that moment, it might seem like the howling winds were laughing at howl's misfortune as it whipped up clouds of swirling dust, flinging them rudely at the hybrid's face right as he inhaled. It was a raucous and lonely sound, but nothing out of the ordinary.