Whitebark Stream the less of it I need the more I get

she focuses on a harder patch of earth, shifting until she'd found the best angle of attack. she paused only when her companion begun to speak, peering back at him as she smears a paw over her muzzle in an attempt to remove a pesky needle, successful only in smearing the half of it with earth.

he is vague, at first, there comes a flicker of confusion that fades when he elaborates. she thinks on it, a moment; to be important. later, when she'd been a yearling, perhaps, her answer to the same question would have been clearer. to be a great hunter, a leader, so see the furthest reaches of the wilds. "important," she echoes softly, mind turning. was that how aditya had made her feel? in the beginning, yes, but in the end—that man in the grove had made her feel important, despite the shame it brought. 

"it is a valuable thing to be," she muses, gaze settled on him perhaps a moment too long. with a blink, and a small curve of her muzzle, she resumes her digging. "you forgot your question," she reminds him, glancing over to him again as she uncovers yet another root.