Sunbeam Lair as history goes on, i grow numb to its repetitions

finch had held mahler's silent interest for some time now, beginning with their hunt led by the ill-fated stranger. he was pleased to follow her trail northward, where it mingled with takiyok's scent and then that of the nightwell thorn. where finch led them was not a place recognized by the gargoyle, though he had roved over the mountains for many weeks preceding diaspora's formation.
he heard the sound of killing in the gloom, and hurried toward it — the scent of lapin blood surrounded his senses, and mahler's stomach gave an answering growl. quickly, he pieced together that the goldpiece woman had led her packmates to a warren, and the rabbit that sped wildly toward him, past the dark thorn, was seized in heavy charcoal jaws and neck-snapped before it drew another breath.