Big Salmon Lake And through the night, so it seems I'm not breathing

She seemed to relax a bit when she realized that he wasn't going to try and convince her or worse yet, coerce her into going any closer to him than she deemed comfortable, and drew a bit closer so that she too could lay down and start de-feathering her goose so that they might at least eat their meal in peace together. 

There really wasn't anything elegant about plucking a goose, though, so Bronco had to abandon any hopes of looking refined while he grabbed mouthfulls of feathers and plucked them from the goos, and then shook his head to get the soft down out of his mouth. Birds sometimes took less energy to catch- but they were definitely more harder to eat afterwards than something that could simply be opened up and devoured. Bronco wanted to make sure none of the goose went to waste- save for its fluff and feathers- so he plucked as much as he could before he began to eat it. 

Zsuzsa, she called herself. It was a catchy name, and made him smile- though his mouth was full so he didn't risk being impolite, and tucked his nose down so he could finish what he was working through before he spoke. He cleared his throat first for good measure. "Zsuzsa. That's a pretty badass name," He said, with a faint grin before he chewed off another piece of food. He paused for a moment when she referred to the scars on his nose, before he tilted his head back and swallowed what he had in his mouth in one gulp. "Hah!" He coughed. "Nah. I think I just learned my lesson about geese here now," He said, implying that he wouldn't likely have trifled with them a second time had those scars come from a goose. Obviously, she was just joking, but seemed interested in where he'd gotten the scars to begin with. He felt a bit ashamed to have to admit it- but he wasn't sure why. 

"Got in a fight with some dude who was picking on a friend of mine," He said, with a shrug. And while she was correct, that he wasn't the sort to go picking fights, or getting too rough in a spar. It weighed on him, knowing that wolves existed who would attack innocent travellers, and that he might be forced to step in and intervene, and be left with the reminder that while he had been able to save his friend, he hadn't been able to stop the whole incident from happening in the first place. "I don't dig it when my friends get picked on," He said simply.