Felltree Marsh i was in darkness

The distance between them did not allow for the Ghost to quite pick up on the large, owl like gaze the female was giving him but he saw the moment when her ears slicked back to lay against the curve of her skull. The seconds before he broke his silence — as unusual as it was for him to be the first to break the silence — were few but a twitch of his ear drew to attention the fact that she'd given a small clear of her throat. It wasn't until she moved closer at his question that Ghost noticed her eyes were green — the color enough for him to take note. It was unusual that he ever noticed minuscule details like that because in his life details were insignificant and didn't matter; and he never grew attached. Noting details was kind of like forming attachments. It allowed you to look too closely. Attachments were messy and depending on who (as The Officer was clear to beat into him often) could mess up an entire mission.

He looked away then, back to his kill only to peek back up at her, taking a step back from it when she spoke that it was generous of him. His tongue swept across his chops once more simply because he wasn't sure what to say in return. This wasn't a mission and he wasn't pretending. He wasn't deceiving. His social skills outside the lies that had became his scriptures had not, admittedly, been properly developed. His interactions had been mostly limited to The Officer growing up. It hadn't been until he'd been docked that he'd been sent out on missions on his own; and even then his interaction had been falsified. Lies recited over and over until he could recite them in his sleep. Always the same name, the same story, the same questions and the same answers to standard questions.

“No,” Ghost responded, taking a step back from the crane's corpse as she moved closer. A step back to mirror every step forward she took. He never allowed himself being so close to another until he was about to take their life. This was his own rule of thumb, perhaps a small and feeble attempt to have some control over himself. The Officer was still in control, still wielded Ghost like a weapon, holding onto his control over the prodigy. Even in his death. For a moment Ghost struggled, unsure of how odd it might sound to say that he had killed it just because. He understood that most wolves didn't just kill because. Typically, they killed to eat and not because they needed the release of having a purpose even if it'd only been for a tiny minute or handful of seconds.

“I have no pack to take it to, so if you are hungry, eat. And if you are not, take it back to your wolves, if you have any.” Generous wasn't really the word Ghost would have used for he wasn't so sure that was what it had been. More like: he'd had no real use for the crane's corpse and she just happened to be in the right place at the right time as he decided what to do with it.