Sheepeater Cliff i will storm the gods

she assures him that she doesn't want his meal; which is good because he wasn't overly inclined to share despite how ridiculous the notion was. it wasn't like he was going to eat the whole thing by himself and he had no where to take it. it was best left for who ever came upon it after him; be it wolf or raven. as for her nonchalant response to his jest about the gods; ridgeback lets out a small, low snort around his meal as he rips free another chunk, chews, swallows.

he doesn't believe in divine beings; not when the world was drawn with so many filigrees of grey.

her words of confidence in his ability to take it — no doubt based upon initial observance — draws forth another bloodstained smirk. he appreciates it but is careful not to let the words of a stranger inflate his ego. ridgeback, he states and then after another bite inquires, and yours?