Perhaps it was an act of fate, though lately, Gravel had begun to have less and less faith in that sort of thing. It seemed that lately her existence, which was once as a respected, honored, and near-immortal leader, had gone out not with a bang like she always dreamed, but with a whimper; not forced, but rather voluntarily committing the rest of her days to living in a group she never wanted to be in to begin with, but honestly had nowhere else to go after the unceremonious destruction of her home. But she was digressing. Either way, the truth of the matter was that she could've easily passed the tom right on by if it wasn't for a barely audible crunch of a leaf from a hidden grotto within an oak tree. Her ear twitched when she heard it, aid for a moment her mind reeled as to whether that was a figment of her imagination, but something compelled the tortoiseshell to look anyway. That was how Gravel found what she thought was the infallible Nemesis of Primal Instinct, pressed up against the trunk of the tree like a terrified kitten. The huntress froze, almost not believing her eyes. "Funk E'tan...?" She whispered, her voice soft on the wind.