Sun Mote Copse Brimful of asha on the 45

Soon enough he came upon the scene, and it was a garish one — not that he was squeamish. An array of vibrant red marked the snow-covered earth, standing out all the more due to the presence of the stark white, and at its center was the luminous Wildfire. Tulimaq's first instinct was to look her over for injuries with a quick glance, but as he did so he noticed the wounded rabbit beneath her paw and figured she was alright. Except for the jaded quality of her expression as she looked over to him, she was in good health.

He shook his head at the offering all the same. Thank you, but that isn't necessary. Maybe it was because of his time spent on the mountain he'd claimed for himself, but Tulimaq wasn't accustomed to eating around others - plus he didn't have a taste for rabbit. He was more interested in working for his meals and would catch something later if he needed it.

His attention drifted to the trees around them, the mist that drifted through the higher reaches, and the condensation that it brought to the leaves. If he was very still he thought he could hear rain — but it wasn't rain, just the collection of mist forming those droplets and occasionally weeping off the branches. After a few moments of quiet contemplation he turned his attention back to Wildfire and murmured, You chose your new home well. He would've asked if she was alright, but didn't think that would help; whatever she had lost was still weighing heavily upon her and he wasn't about to bring it up. But he was here to listen, if she needed that.