Larksong Grotto I hunt ghosts for a living

It hadn't occurred to the somewhat nose-blind boy that he was not alone. His path continued on until he heard paws trample the dirt beneath his own. His ears perked back, his large body turning round to see a white wolfess in front of him. In her jaws was a pheasant, a dead one that is. It's colorful feathers stuck outside of her white cheeks, the bright head glimmering to the boy. 

She first gave him a chuff before greeting him aloud. Her greeting was one of a gangster, his brow quirked itself. However, her little laugh with her greeting made him ease up with a grin, she asked if he was hungry. Well god damn she had super sonic hearing like Skeet himself! "You a psychic or somethin'?" He questioned her lightly, plopping down next to her and seeing the pheasant get nudged towards him. 

He didn't waste his time tearing it apart, the feathers and all that. However, he took a few chomps before nudging it back to the unknown countess. "Here, I'll leave the rest for ya" he said to her, his maw covered with feathers. He wiped them off upon his foreleg, his scar showing paleness.

"So, what's your name food bringer?" He asked her cheekily, his tail thumping.