Felltree Marsh Gigelorum

She drew closer, and her eyes were drawn momentarily to the swaying of his tail- broken, at some point, she guessed, before looking back to him again. There was a mildness about his features that proclaimed no devil, and he welcomed her with a calm friendliness that put her at ease. She knew not all friendly faces could be trusted- but he seemed to understand her intentions. She'd hunted with strangers before- the last one had given her the entire kill, taking only the antlers for himself. Oddly enough, both wolves had a hint of briny sea air to their fur. This one didn't smell like Sapphique, though. 

She didn't understand what he was hunting at first, as she'd never pondered the option of hunting beavers. The only times she saw them, they were in the water, and as soon as she was spotted they made a loud smack with their tail on the water's surface and dove below where she couldn't get them at all. But as they moved, the began to notice the signs that they'd come out of the water. Alders with bark stripped, trees that had been cut down leaving nothing but a spiky stump behind, and tangles of cottonwood that had been consumed bit by bit. 

She looked to Shea, then, her gaze curious. How exactly did he intend to catch one? She assumed they'd wait somewhere, to see if the beavers would appear- but she wasn't entirely certain.