Honeyed Pasture ³a tenna nárenna

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With nary a look behind her, the stranger responds in a hushed voice, lilting and poetic. Knife-Ear listens with a flick of her ear, following the gaze of the woman as she gestures at the herd. A relatively simple creature, the coywolf barely understood what she meant by her words, but the invitation to a hunt was clear enough. Inwardly, Knife-Ear would have preferred to scavenge the remains of a proper pack kill, but tag teaming a weak beast with the stranger was better than nothing.

Although — she steals a glance at the waif's peculiar scar — there is doubt whether they would even be able to take down a hare between them both. Doubt, however, would have to take a backseat for the moment. She was hungry, and she was sure the other woman was hungry too (why else would she be stalking through the plains all sneaky like?).

Shuffling into place beside her, Knife-Ear watches the herd with a sharp gaze, studying each ungulate as they grazed. "Spied any youngin's?" she asks before perking up as she catches sight of the one with a limp.