Shadow Mountain i was lucid and conscious

The smell of a fresh kill drew her in. Echelon was not what one would deem a worthy hunter. Instead she was more like the heritage she did not claim; she scavenged. In this case it had been that tantalizing scent of blood on the wind that had drew her in, and at first the large dark mass that she saw she was willing to mistake for Tonravik. Yet beneath that smell of torn earth and of raw game it was male, and Tonravik was definitely not male.

She watched him for no more than a few seconds, half a minute at most. His work was almost done and from her perch on the edge of that basin she thought it most opportune to investigate. She slinked down the rocky slope carefully, but not that quietly. Echelon did not want to sneak up on him, though with a curl of her lips and a shift of her posture she made no hesitation to declare her place on the chain. He was distinct unfamiliar but smelled of Nanuk. She could not place him.

HI FRAND IT'S BEEN AGES