Big Salmon Lake malice

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hunting, huh? d'you need help? i'm decent at it. without waiting for her answer, buffalo approached the other wolf with the tact of an unsocialized pup, gangly paws flailing upon the cold ground. at the other's mention of byll, however, buffalo drew up sharply, his eyes turning to mismatched chips of ice. she's sick, he offered in a tight tone, before the next moment brought the return of his previous friendly demeanour. what're we hunting?