Lost Creek Hollow my skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel

Root listens carefully as Ilya begins to explain, giving her a little insight on the matter.  She isn’t sure how the weather would alter her tracking the herd she’d caught wind of just before joining but she can’t let Mordecai down so she takes note easily.  The smaller bodies of water are surely freezing over and perhaps they’d move to something with a faster current or bigger body to keep hydrated, even in the winter.  For a moment, she tucks it away, and offers a thankful smile. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever fished,” Root tells her, thinking back to when she was younger.  She played around in the water but never caught anything.  In the warmer months, perhaps she’d come back around for a lesson.  “Big game all the way, though,” she adds with a lopsided smile and wag of her tail.