Totoka River you need not be hanged like a dog

A boor! she had snarled at once. Such was the price of lingering over other people's problems — this was precisely why, in the Hunting Ground, one kept to oneself and spared no thought for the notion of communal living. Hell was other people, and for the moment, hell wore the form of that loathsome, shambling corpse.

You could at least have the decency to die somewhere else and not foul the water for those of us still living! Her tail stood high upon her haunches, as though she could defy anyone — or anything. But if she was a poor huntress, she was even less versed in the ways of combat.
If only her sister were here — Red, who had the gift of turning grim moments into games, who could charm even the sourest beasts. She had that gift: the rare ease of being more sociable than most.
Ivory did not.