Honeyed Pasture one false prayer wielding blasphemy

The scent of the elk had pulled her down from the glacier—a mixture of curiosity and the possibility of a free meal to bring back to the pack enough to make her abandon her exploration of the icy peaks. 

It took some time to climb down into the valley, but she had done it many times before and she made it down without any issues. The scent was stronger there, and she followed the trail, realizing as she got closer that it mixed with the scent of coyote; it wasn't enough to deter her, though, and she continued through the grasses, curious still about what she might find on the other end of the trail. It wasn't until the strangers scent mixed with that that of the elk and coyote that she froze. Her heart raced and her muscles tensed. Her gaze searched the area around her until she saw the dark of his coat against the browns and yellows of the dying grass. She watched him, her original target momentarily forgotten until she could be sure that this stranger wasn't like the last one she had met.