Heron Lake Plateau Which light switch is which?

It was just another blow among many, though one of the most final and irrevocable. "Oh, X," Towhee exhaled in a wretched voice, sinking down into the snow, her forelegs stretched around the hawk's corpse. "What happened to you?" She expected to cry or at least shed some tears, though it simply didn't happen. She just lay there like a sphinx, staring miserably at the deceased bird, her insides clenching as memories ran through her head: a highlight reel of their life together.

She didn't hear the crunching footfalls in the snow, nor sense the stranger approaching in any other way, so when she looked up and saw him standing there, Towhee started badly. She pushed upward and crouched almost defensively over the hawk (and Orca's grave beneath), sizing up the unfamiliar wolf. He looked like a wolf in his prime: hale, with fur that matched the snow and bright eyes a few shades darker than her own.

"Who're you?" Towhee questioned, rising properly onto all fours and falling into a more neutral posture. Her ears pricked. "And what brings you here?" was the more pertinent question. They were on a small island in the middle of a lake on top of a plateau. Had he wandered up here by chance...?