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Artaax watched as his mother regarded with kill with nothing more than a glance. Confusion settled upon his face as she stepped away, and he searched her face to glean some understanding of why she was refusing his offer. She explained shortly, settling the feeling of rejection, but not that of disappointment. What she said made sense, but he still would have preferred the instant satisfaction of getting to see one of his family actually partaking in the prize he had won for them. Leaving it in a cache meant he might never know if it was consumed, or by who. If he didn't know that, then who would praise him for his contribution?

But, Artaax was a dutiful young wolf, and so he simply nodded and leaned down to collect the rabbit's carcass in his jaws. He followed her lead and set off towards the cache to stow the kill, all the while mulling over what she'd said about Drageda being his to take care of and slowly taking it way more literally than she'd probably intended.