Ghost Lion Crag xxxxv. it's a waste of time

As he drew nearer he was identified. Lótë carried one scent heavier than that of the moon who ruled the tribe - the huntsman Adrastus. Finding that scent lingering anywhere would have spoiled Raimo's mood - but to find it here, on the woman, made his fur stand on-end.

You have come far. He remarks; as much an observation of her tracking as it is her position in the tribe, if she holds the sivulliks attention.