Blackfoot Forest sticks and stones and weed and bones

Any inkling that Zombie might have had about Hawkeye feeling uncomfortable around her vanished in the next moment, for the dark wolf didn't seem to be in a great hurry to end the conversation. Even Zombie could tell that her companion was trying to be, well, companionable, but the thing yearling couldn't seem to control her foul moods. She knew that Hawkeye was only trying to help, but she still felt a little frustrated by the fact that the older female seemed to have all the answers.

"I don't really think that's how it works," she told the other a little flatly. Build an altar, without really understanding how to do so properly? And then chant in front of it? Zombie had no doubt that the process was the same, but... "I don't know how to built a proper altar, and what would I chant, anyway? 'Ooo-gah booo-gah, tell me where they wen-tah?' I think their gods would laugh in my face, or make my tail fall off or something." She shook her head in disbelief. Part of her felt a little bad for being so rude, but her displaced anger burned a little stronger.

Zombie flicked her ear, in something like sheepishness or maybe annoyance. "I'm glad not everyone left, but I think I want to go back to being alone." Without waiting for a response, though she would likely still be in earshot if Hawkeye gave one, Zombie began to shuffle away, black stone held carefully in her jaw alongside the femur she was rarely seen without. She idly thought that she should probably say thank you, or sorry, or something... but it was too late now.