Moonspear Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job

As he spoke, she fell silent, listening to his reasoning. He was there to hunt, an attempt made between patrols, she gathered. “I… I can help with hunting?” she offered, albeit awkwardly. Truthfully, she wasn’t too sure how much help she could be; oftentimes her hunts were small and quick meals to feed herself atop the mountain. To hunt as a pair… well, it wasn’t a concept she was particularly accustomed to, her time spent alone wearing well into the skills she should have as a pack animal. But she was lacking, and this she was well aware of.

To take her mind off of it, she asked, “What are your patrols like?” Hunting she could do on her own, generally speaking, as long as the prey was small. But patrols were something she’d never touched on, her interest in accompanying others on them minimal, at best; she asked now only because she was curious about him, wanting to better learn about her family member.

“I… I don’t want to be by myself anymore,” she answered after the question was returned. “I thought by coming down here, maybe… maybe I would run into someone.” And she did: her older brother. Her brother with more questions, his next a difficult one to answer. “I think I’m getting better,” was her response, practically dripping with uncertainty. “I want to be better.” A better packmate, a better sister… a better aunt, a better daughter… she didn’t want to continue to be carried through life on the backs of others.