King Elk Forest This poem is mournful & sentimental & filled with complaints:

he shrugs slightly at queenie's question, too exhausted to put up a front."rest," delight answers honestly, "i'll talk more about it with you later." she'll be needed as a guard, surely, but in the light of everything, it seems.. unnecessary to talk about it right now. there'll be time tomorrow.

the morwinyon looks down at the elk's body, swollen and bloodied now by ramsay's teeth. he opens his mouth as if to say something, then snaps it shut and shakes his head, giving his wolves an apologetic look. "i'll talk to everyone later," he says, the best he can muster, and heads off, leaving the corpse to decompose peacefully in the snow (unless the boys set back to eating it.)