Otatso Wetlands give me segregation

Having judged from his loud and deliberate approach that he was not a threat, Paladin did not bother to look up from her excavation efforts — until the stranger called out to her. The sullied saltstone withdrew from the trough she had been making and appraised the thick-furred wayfarer opposite her. He was better looking up close: hale, with an arresting gaze of green malachite. And now she was certain that all the grey wasn’t from age.  

His confident approach bade her to give him the time of day. The Dokuga’s blackened tail lifted and waved slowly; Halfway between an invitation and a threat. She snorted, as if agreeing, but only stared at him with half-lidded expectancy in the moments following his introductory observation. Get to the point.

The wolf did not disappoint, to-the-point and venturesome in his proposition. Deal, she quickly pronounced, knowing in herself that she would kill him, without hesitation, should he cross her. Was it wroth the risk? Probably not, but Paladin was instinctively drawn to companionship and did not revel in the least in a life spent alone. That, and her supreme mettle, made it possible to withstand such a flimsy partnership.

One that she had no issue taking control of right away.

Give that side a shove, she directed him, motioning towards the side of the beaten stag that was closest to him. See if it can be rocked over this way, where I’ve dug. The intention behind this would be to free the encased body from its mold, by rolling it onto its side, which would hopefully then enable them to move the dislodged carcass however they wished. Paladin lodged her jaws tight against the deer’s exposed spine, ready to pull as he pushed.