Redhawk Caldera witch's butter

"hunting," he replied simply, then paused, and shrugged, "picking up dead wildlife off the ground." that was more accurate, though he had yet to find anything today. he eyed the stick at her feet, covered in odd, yellowish-orangish mushy things, which reminded him vaguely of sap. "what do you have there?" he then asked, since he knew very well what she was out here doing-- burying the dead. he had never met the woman, and felt no grief at all towards her death. in truth, he was merely glad it wasn't him. his gaze raised back up to the black-furred wolf, tail flicking with a mild interest.