Larksong Grotto Lately, I find myself throwing stones

On one thing did Athan pride himself: he was no scavenger. Fresh blood and fresh kills were the feast of the hunter. Let the ghouls and lesser hunters tear the flesh from old rotting corpses.

But he was led to the body nonetheless. It was strange in that way, how it attracted him. Perhaps it was the stench of death. But it was a long dead creature. Perhaps it was the promise of some live beings nearby it. For that the promise was made and kept.

He saw the red woman backpedal from the remains and approached then, his voice rumbling out of sheer curiosity, not expecting an answer. Someone you knew?