Firestone Hot Springs viiii. i was born to fight, to rage, to war

"My apologies," she murmurs softly, dark crown dipping once respectively - though with decorum and not defeat. "I did not know the fawn was already targeted," she continues, allowing her hackles to smooth - given that he doesn't seem driven to violence just yet. 

"She's injured but those hooves would still hurt; I could help you," the nightwisp offers hesitantly, proferring a small smile, an olive branch. 

"I have others with me...if you should find yourself unable or unwilling to transport the remains, might I have them for my assistance with the hunt? I imagine my comrades would welcome it," the exile ventured further - thinking it a fair trade. The rest of the fawn would only be divied up amongst other scavengers if he denied.