Grouse Thicket a cry at the final breath

Tagging for reference! Open for anyone, he's pretty close to HLP.

For someone trying to lay claim to a mountain, he had spent plenty of time off of its slopes and away from the red-cast forest; perhaps his scents would have faded by now, but he would return and he would make sure the cliffs bore his mark. For now the man was still exploring, still gathering information on the residents of these wildlands; he'd visited the Shadewood, found Rosings, and now back-tracked (in part to find this plateau that @Bat had mentioned to him), and when he finally noticed the way the undulating hills evened out he knew he'd found it — but he didn't go too close. Of all the wolves of the area, they seemed like the most prolific. He would not make enemies of them lest they invite his ire.

But, all this travel has made him hungry. He thinks of the boar that he brought down with @Tusk, and how glorious it would be to find another such creature upon which to practice his skills. As Tulimaq investigates a grove of trees haphazardly cobbled together, he discovers the thicket is much more dense than he anticipated - and ripe with signs of prey. So, as he begins to stalk between the trees, he focuses on rooting out one of the thicket's namesake birds.

Tzila had decided that she liked this region well enough to hang around a little while longer. She felt no need to rush, no need to put any distance between her and the great forest she has visited days piror. Instead she would expand her radius at a slow but steady clip. Always aware, ever watching. Absorbing any little snippet of information that the land had to offer, be it mixed in the fresh snow or on the breeze. 

Wolves were plentiful in these parts. She had picked up many a distant scent, but rarely caught a glimpse of them. Either she was just a few paces too far behind, or she chose to remain just a little too elusive, sticking to her shadow realm. Hunger drove her out into the open...into daylight. The need to hunt, to fill her belly with nutrient rich meat was too great to resist. As she silently floated around the perimiter of the grove, two scents filled her nose. Wolf and grouse. She stilled, her silver eyes falling first onto the agouti male already targeting the feathered prey. Her dark form was broken up, in thanks to the treeline. Her position shouldn't be given away, lest she move. Should their gazes meet, she would offer but a simple proposal with a subtle inch of her dark muzzle. Drive them this way, and I'll catch.