Sunset Valley But he talks like a gentleman

Tuulu looked at the meat when it was offered. There was no way he could ingest that; his stomach churned in literal protest. He didn't know enough about the sickness, and until he did, he couldn't look at the caribou as food, not any of the ill ones anyway. But the other man was right: it would be best to eat before the work they had cut out for them lugging all of this back to Kigipigak's camp. 

The northerner would rather take his chances. A memory of the cow stumbling and ataxic, the lack of food in her stomach—he refused to end up like that. A hard swallow moved down his throat. He shook his head as politely as he could. I'll be fine, he assured the other wolf. Just lead the way, and I'll help you carry this back to your camp. He hoped there would be no questions about his decision, but he would answer them truthfully if there were.