these hands made of splinters

Perhaps she knew. Perhaps she didn't. Either way, there was no harm in repeating information for the purposes of keeping it fresh in one's mind. He was simply recalling events in which he knew she'd not been present for. Then again... she was of Tartok. There were things that went unspoken them and did not require words. Other times? It didn't hurt to speak one's thoughts out loud. Communication was far quicker that way. Certainly easier than Tonravik's version pantomime; something he was learning and quickly.

She spoke towards none of that until he mentioned the required trades. She'd not been present for that meeting, but he had few concerns over whether or not she was qualified. He highly doubted Tonravik would pick a wolf without skill to be her battle buddy which meant, her fighting aptitude likely  retained a little bit of the spunk that riddled what he was beginning to know of her personality.

He grinned. He didn't used to be quite this uptight. He also didn't used to have things he cared about on the line. Alas, he was home and with family of sorts. Kerosene lifted a paw, pushing the antler beneath him towards the rest of the pile as he abandoned it there. Wouldn't want to accidentally fall on those points now would they? He laughed lightly as he shook out his fur and lifted his tail behind him. "Enlighten me, little wolf," he teased, "then let's see about those borders."