Honeyed Pasture First we eat, then we do everything else.

His nostrils flare, targeting the specific scent of elderly within the herd. The smell is distinct -- the rot of age, decay in their bones and the musty scent of defeat as they move, knowing their life source is nearly spent. They move steadily, prowling closer -- 300, 250 yards away from the small herd composed only of a handful of women, their young, the alpha male and a feeble, elderly female. Surely part of a larger mass though presently separated from the majority. They would leave the elder to die once Vaati and Neako were detected. 

"Mostly elk, deer, hare, bird. The occasional mountain goat who wanders down from the peaks." That had only occurred rarely -- the packs owning the mountain ranges usually caught them before they had a chance to wander. It leads him to believe the man is not from around here, new to the fact of their neck of the Teekon. Perhaps a good thing; it meant that he did not know of the dark woods and the tensions brewing between the surrounding forces. 

Vaati halts as they approach 100 yards away, crouching lowly and indicating for the other to do the same. "There. The older one. They will leave her to our jaws once we charge, their kind do not stick around to defend their old and dying." He turns to the other, opening the floor for refusal or suggestion.