Duskfire Glacier Sometimes a flower is just a flower.

Ah, the zombie disease. Wayfarer curled her lip at the mention of it, her stomach churning in memory of the stench which accompanied each beast that'd succumbed to whatever sickness had come to affect the herds.

So Veteran's kill was nothing worth showing off and she was left feeling disappointed by the earlier suggestion of a fine meal, but the fire-pelted youth felt too drained to poke fun at him. Wayfarer, glad for her brother's warmth, would save her teasing for another occasion. 

"Hm," Wayfarer pawed lazily at the ground as Veteran began to dig, not at all anticipating the sourness of frozen meat that she would need to pretend to enjoy, "uh, none, actually. Didn't see a single deer, so...?"

Either they had moved on in attempt to save themselves from disease, or they were to stupid to consider it.