It was a delicate manner, extracting the holly bush without ingesting it's leaves, or berries, which meant that he would have to take it from the root. Handling poisonous things with the only thing he could: his teeth, he had built up a tolerance to his saliva touching them and tried not to swallow too much. Sometimes his claws were useful too, but more often than not it was easier to gently pluck the things he needed with his teeth. In the long run, though, if Sos and Atka desired the shaman's death then they would take it, no matter if he had built up a tolerance or avoided swallowing and instead ran around drooling (or rinsing with water) or whatever else. Most of the time the poisonous ones were only poisonous in the leaves or berries and the plant itself could be extracted and transported by the roots of it. This was the case currently: he would find a way to sort out the leaves and berries once he got it back to Swiftcurrent Creek. Or perhaps he'd simply attempt to replant near his den so that he would have a supply at all times without having to continue to go out and search for more holly.
Nefarious had been focused upon his task, on the careful digging around the plant's roots that he hadn't noticed when a wolf from the pack whose borders he was lingering ...relatively close too, approached the scene. There was a muffled noise that grasped the shaman's attention. Head rose, having been previously bent, hackles bristling with unease, lip curling back slightly towards the free territory he faced, before Nefarious replaced the snarled lip with a neutral expression as he turned to face the male, pumpkin orange eyes impassive. As far as Nefarious was ultimately concerned he was not trespassing, and neither was the holly bush he wanted so thus he saw that he was doing no wrong. “Digging up this holly bush for my private stores,” Nefarious spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which, it kind of was.