Whitefish River ashes, ashes, we all fall down

he says nothing, which she assumes is a yes. she judges the length of the journey there and back, the time it'll take to scout out the herds here, and half hopes it may be earlier. 

he offers to search for a companion, and the huntress offers a "thanks." his quip earns a smile, though she can't quite find it in her to offer a reply, yet. she doesn't mind the company of the bear, rather likes the idea of getting to know him—she's swiftly reminded that that's the opposite of what she oughts to do. 

"I should get going—the sooner the hunt, the better for all of us." she's not sure she can put this off any longer now that she's determined not to.