Emberwood It's hard to fight when the fight ain't fair.

She had just begun to scrape away at one of the older caches; older being somewhat arbitrary since the group recently relocated, which meant the majority of their cache system was pretty fresh. It didn't feel fresh or in any way easy since the chill of winter had made the dirt so tough. Ibis wasn't a physically strong person so her attempts to plant any fresh kills tended to be shallow (and maybe someone corrected her efforts after-the-fact, she couldn't know for sure). She had sought out one of her own shallow little pits and worked at it, but did not make much progress before her wrists and forelimbs were sore; her shoulders twitched and began to ache a little, so she stopped.

Thankfully someone else was nearby. The pale shape drifted with the snow, arriving just as she settled on her haunches. The smell of rabbit was strong and fresh, and Ibis couldn't help but lick her lips as the fragrance flooded the area. As she turns to look at Marten she smiles, her ears twisting to catch his voice. If you're offering, I won't refuse—if you're sure though. Her eyes were hungry; she looked to the rabbit and then to Marten as if to ask for permission. She didn't want to take something from him if he needed it himself—he was a much larger wolf than she was, and would need more sustenance. A pause—waiting for an answer maybe—and she asks with a conversational tone, How are you?