Lost Creek Hollow Found somethin' there, chief?

It didn't make sense to Joss that Treason was actually allowing him to take from their caches, assuming he was able to refill them. He didn't like those chances, really, as he knew exactly how capable he was at hunting- and how often he would miss, too. Presently, he knew he'd have to take more from the caches than he could put back, until he built up the strength and energy to pull his own weight. Maybe, he decided, maybe she was telling him that the old stuff was OK for him, but nothing else. Maybe that's what she meant, so he nodded. He would take care of older stuff without complaint- though in the winter, the frost and temperature would keep things in better condition for longer. Still, nobody really wanted to eat stuff that had gotten too freezerburnt- nobody except Joss, of course. Still clenching his teeth and holding his breath, he nodded again to show that he understood. It was easier for him when she just talked at him; then he didn't have to explain anything, or come up with excuses. 

When she chastized him on making himself worse, he shook his head in reply. He didn't want to waste away to nothing, nor did he want to suffer whatever punishment she might deliver if she found him half dead. Something she said puzzled him a bit, though, and as she began to dig up her rabbit, he moved back toward the place where he'd smelled a buried bird and began to dig there. She made sense- he couldn't contribute if he couldn't even stand on his feet. He uncovered the bird which didn't have much on its bones to begin with- and the feathers, frozen to its small body, would make it tricky to pull apart, even though it was small and brittle. It'd been in the ground for some time, so he gave her a glance- flipping it over to show off exactly how frozen solid it was and how little meat it had on it, as though to seek permission. Was this meagre enough? Something like this he could probably replace...As it wasn't like he was taking too much, anyway. 

What confused him was the fact that she was so hell-bent on having him do something at all. The pack seemed to have a good number of perfectly healthy, capable wolves, so he didn't think he was really integral for the survival of the pack, nor was he nearly as welcome or wanted as a proper, healthy stranger might be. He sat down and stared at the bird for a moment, and then quietly spoke. "You don't need me..." He said quietly, giving her a dark, mistrustful look, which for him, meant that something somewhat vulnerable was coming next. "Thank you." He wasn't useful for the pack, and yet he had a home. He'd only ever seen worse before, and it partially made him wish that he'd been born in a place like this- that his sister had, too. Maybe Treason would have understood better...Then again, maybe she wouldn't have shown any pity or mercy, either. He wasn't quite sure...But she was fearful enough that he knew better than to forget his manners.