Big Salmon Lake do my patriotic chore

Dingo watched as the other wolf stared off in to the lake, and gingerly followed his gaze, thus watching the surface as it flicked and popped with movement. After a few moments the stranger lunged, and came away with a chunk of fish meat that made Dingo's mouth fill with fresh saliva. He licked his chops, watching the wriggling creature rather than the wolf holding it, and grunted when the stranger spoke. You're like a freakin' ninja, dude, which was the best compliment Dingo could muster at this point, probably.

Maybe he could weasel this guy into gathering all the necessary meat for the caches? But then again, judging by the manner in which he had been accosted and chased off of the pack's lands only hours before, Dingo was skeptical that his efforts would be in any way rewarded. Instead of plunging in to the lake to do the work required, he sat back on his haunches and queried the fishmonger - So, that lady that showed up. Was that the head honcho? Which would make her Fox, if he recalled Ashmedai's words correctly. 

Dingo looked down at the lake, and his gaze deviated slowly towards his own paws which perched upon the rock in front of him, casting his head down. I guess she thinks I'm some kind of dick, but there was Panther too. Thinking of his older brother, Dingo's head canted slightly up, and he regarded his stalker with a sideways glance; but maybe Panther can convince her I'm not totally a dick.