Fledge had found the unusual ritual sprawled out on a rock. At first, he had been taken aback, but then he had taken a moment to really take in what he had discovered. It was unusual, yes, but he had seen similiar things before, though they had been cases of grieving packs and kin rather than prey-creatures. It wasn't until he discovered the third one that he had taken a real pause to consider that it was he had continued to discover, and what it might have meant. Cautiously, he had tried to learn what he could from the scent, but the scent of death and flowers did a good job at disguising the creator's work. At least, he supposed, he had discovered that it was a she who had continued to leave the unusual rituals here and there.

The why had continued to follow him. Fledge had come to the conclusion that it could not have been for mourning purposes, unless the wolf had been using prey as a surrogate for whoever they had lost. That thought had been what had strengthened his resolve to find out the answer, ever-curious about what tale was linked to the discoveries. Had he accidentally intruded on that very thing - a surrogate for mourning - or was there something else abound? It was, at least, easy enough to follow the distinct scent of corpse intertwined with fresh, late-spring blooms. It was even easier to follow it once he had found his way to the crags and grotto, where the scents stood out distinctly against the background of stone and water.

Eventually, he found his way further down towards the grotto itself. The scent had intensified, and so had his search. Fledge was cautious enough but lacked any true indicator of fear, his time spent as a wanderer having made him quietly confident in his own abilities. He simply moved quietly and confidently, navigating his way down the rocky slopes and onto the flatter ground below, nose to the ground and ears at the ready. He had heard singing in the distance, though it had quitened and had been since replaced by the familiar sound of claws against rock.

Fledge hadn't expected to find a woman like her, but he hadn't known what to expect either. She was dark, marked with a crimson hue. She seemed preoccupied by her own thoughts, but Fledge moved to intercept her nonetheless. He jogged towards her, wholly neutral in his posture as he let out a gruff bark of greeting. It had to be her, after all. He doubted he'd find many other she-wolves that smelt like both sweet flowers and sour, odl death. "Did you make those things?" He cut right to the chase, his head tilted as he paused a distance from her. His question had not been malicious, after all, but there was no use dancing around the point of why he had approached her. Best, he thought, to be direct.