Bitterroot Valley she had been forced into prudence in her youth,

When they had stopped, Imaq's tropical optics scanned the mass of grazing bodies -- landing on the hobbled deer she'd mentioned to Mahler earlier. Her freckled diadem swung loosely to gesture in its direction, pointing it out to the argent he-wolf. "There," she breathed, reluctant to disturb the creatures. She didn't want to mess this hunt up; if they were successful, it would mean valuable resources for both the Glacier and Rivenwood, not to mention it would strengthen their alliance with the the other pack.

"Imaq could sneak, chase. Bring to Mahler, Imaq help Mahler take deer?" she suggested, glancing towards the Graf as she spoke, making a few small gestures with her spotted muzzle as if to indicate that she would circle around and startle the deer. From there, she would do her best to herd the injured ewe towards her companion without sending too many others towards him and risk Mahler getting caught up in a panicked stampede. 

He had said he was stronger than he was fast. The Waterwitch thought the two should be able to bring down the white-tail together, so long as she managed to chase it close enough for the lilac-eyed woodlander to attack. Still, woman-who-hunts waited with silent patience to see if he had any objections -- willing to hear them out.