Ursa was not the bravest of the litter. She also wasn't the smallest, the largest, or the smartest. One might have thought she was average or middle of the pack, but her rotund sides that stuck out farther than they should were an indication that at least part of her was... abnormal. Honestly, just loved to eat as much as she loved to learn. Any time she had to sit and listen, one could probably find a snack or bone being chewed on. Her mouth always had something in it unless she was sleeping and even then, she often fell asleep with that nasty, chewed-up, gross bone that her mother kept nagging her about.

It was that very reason that had forced Ursa outside that morning. Aside from learning all about the garden and what the plants could do for others, Ursa was also interested in hunting. Which surprisingly few of her other siblings were also interested in. That didn't bother her much. Rather, she enjoyed the quiet over the rough and tumble way of her siblings. Instead, as she gathered her supplies, she sang a soft melody to herself and kept busy. Today, she was going to attempt skinning a few hares she had just brought back from checking her nearby traps. Those darn critters were not going to destroy the garden today!

craft an item related to hunting - tanned hide

Bronze had been reluctant to interact with the rest of his pack, even though it'd been quite some time since he joined the Armada. It wasn't for lack of ability, or even lack of care.. he simply was deeply introverted, a trait no doubt instilled in him by both of his parents. He and his siblings had basically all been raised to take care of themselves. Others were often superfluous. He knew it didn't quite work like that in a pack, and he wasn't not trying, he just wasn't doing it as quickly as he ought to be. He'd been quick to rise and start his routine walk around the edge of the woods. At this hour he tended to avoid the company of most wolves, both intentionally and unintentionally, but the scent of a recently-killed hare mixed with the scent of a packmate admittedly intrigued him. Not because he was hungry, but because it'd provide good fuel to start a conversation, which wasn't something easy for him usually. Except, as he drew closer, he realized this wolf was a pup - which he had almost no experience with. Not even sure what he'd say to a kid but deciding he may as well figure it out, he continued to plod along until she came into sight. He noted the supplies she'd gathered, and was curious what exactly she was doing. It didn't really look like she was about to settle down for a feast. "Morning," he announced his presence before he got too close, clearing his throat before he spoke. "You caught all these?"

The first hare was placed upon its back, legs splayed out with a rock on each paw to weigh the limbs down. Beside her, her mother's companion, Mr. Raccoon, held a slim but sharp knife. Having cajoled the raccoon to come out and help her start the process of tanning the hides, she hoped he wouldn't be too upset about being woken up early. So far, he was compliant with her requests and soon began to slide the knife's sharp blade around the hare's paws and down the inside of its legs until he reached the middle of the hare. Focused on keeping her paws on the hare so the skin and fur wouldn't get messed up in the process, she was surprised when she heard someone call out to her.

Lifting her head with wide eyes and alert ears, Ursa watched the larger boy approach. From what she scented, he was Armada, but she wasn't sure she had met him personally before. She blinks a few times, her brain taking a moment to register his question. "Oh, uh, m-morning," the pup stutters out as everything finally settles in her. Looking down and around at her collection of hares and supplies, she took a moment to look back up at him. "Uhm, yeah, I-I trapped them. My d-dad showed me how to make snares," there is possibly a hint of a smile but talking to others she didn't know always made her slightly nervous at first.

Bronze realized as soon as he spoke that maybe his words seemed a little strange, like he was surprised she'd caught all those hares on her own, but it didn't seem she took them that way. He took a few steps closer to her, watching the way the wolf and the raccoon companion were working. The hare was splayed out and they were working on cutting the thing down the middle. He was unused to such craftmanship, but he'd already begun to realize that this was the benefit of living in a pack - wolves had a lot more time to work on their own pursuits instead of just fighting to survive and worrying about where their next meal might come from. He allowed himself a small smile, not one to really force displays of friendliness, but she seemed a little nervous at his presence and he decided the last thing he wanted was for some kid to go tell their parents that he was intimidating them. That wouldn't be a good look for him at all. "Trapped them? I've never done anything like that," he admitted thoughtfully. Though he held a high opinion of himself and his own skills he knew there were plenty of things he'd never gotten the opportunity to learn. Admitting that didn't feel quite as bad as it may have when he'd first joined. "What're you doing with them now?" His question was genuine, and he made another move to close the distance between them, reclining once he got within respectful viewing distance. "Name's Bronze Destruction, by the way."

The older boy moves closer and while Mr. Raccoon regards him with hesitancy, Ursa looks at him with a smile. An invitation for him to come closer, of course! He scented of Armada and anyone who belonged to the pack was a friend of hers. She tries to stay focused on the task at hand as the raccoon continues to slide the sharpened blade along the inside of the hare's slim legs.

When Bronze speaks, Ursa doesn't look up from the hare, but her ears turn toward him. She is listening, intent, and open to any and all questions he has. A small smile embraces her lips as she lets out a laugh. "I don't suppose most wolves do," Ursa comments, feeling more comfortable with him as the moments pass. Now that the skin was flayed ever so carefully, the inside contents of the hare are exposed to the chilled air around them.

"I am skinning them so that I can tan the hides and then use them for the gardens or to craft more hunting tools. If I cut them into thin enough strips, they roll nicely and can be used for cording," Ursa explains as she continues to have Mr. Raccoon help her peel the skin away from the hare's body. "Would you like to try?" Her eyes lift up to him with interest, pausing for a moment before continuing on with her task. Mr. Raccoon carefully takes the hare's body and goes to hang it from a low branch of a nearby tree where he can slit the throat and allow the blood to drain.

"I like trapping because it is less effort for me," she pauses, suddenly self-conscious of her chubby stature, but the only tell is a slight wrinkle of her typically bubbly nature. "Plus it leaves the animals more intact so their bits can be utilized instead of being shredded with our claws and teeth," it is then that she pulls a second hare over until it is between herself and Bronze. Oh, right, introductions!

"The name's Ursa Fatalis!" The pup is chipper once more as she watches Bronze. "You don't gotta if you don't want to, but you can stick around and watch," she waits then to see if he wants to try it out or would rather sit and talk.

Bronze all but ignored the racoon, finding the company of small companion animals... a little unnerving, if he was being honest. It wasn't the sort of relationship he had any interest in but he knew not all wolves were like him, only made more evident by the longer he spent within the Armada. He noted the girl seemed eager for his company, and he took a few steps closer, glad to observe what she was doing. Admittedly, he was impressed with her work - it seemed like fine craftsmanship for a girl her age but he shouldn't be surprised given what he'd seen of his fellow pack members so far. Even the youngest fighters had seen more training than he had when he'd first joined. The same seemed to go for other skills and interests. "Interesting," he mused aloud, though he sounded genuine, not just making idle chatter to fill the quiet between them. "Sure." Learning something new, something that might benefit himself, was always intriguing to him. He moved forward even closer, letting her set up a little station for him to work. He nodded along to her explanation. "Suppose trapping's a good idea anyway to just get food more passively, if you have the resources." He was still, slowly, learning to adjust to a life that had far more excess than he'd ever had before. "I'll give it a shot, I think." The kid was nice enough to do all this explaining and demonstrating for him, it was the least he could do, his own interest in what she was doing aside. "So he'll help me?" He gestured to the raccoon, and then to the rabbit again, not wanting to dig in and ruin the pelt without being certain - these were hers, after all.

Bronze's comment has her thinking for a moment. If she had the resources? Was the whole world they lived in not a resource? A stick on the ground was not simply a stick, but a trigger for a trap or a piece to be woven into a basket. Leaves could be used for bandages or the cover of a pitfall. Then she remembers the time she has spent with Spider. The lessons from her mother. Some wolves were not born and raised within packs. They had to fend for themselves and were not raised to learn new things every day. To them, the forest, the mountains, they were simply terrain and a force to be fought instead of utilized. So as much as Ursa wants to make a puppy-immature comment, she chooses not to. Instead, she focuses on the work, noticing how he comes closer and seems intrigued.

Pleased for the company, she smiles up at Bronze and gives him a nod. Leaning back so she can lift up her paws, she shows them to Bronze. "See, we don't have thumbs like Mr. Raccoon," the companion holds the knife in hand and apprehensively scoots closer to Bronze. "Mr. Raccoon does the slicing of the skin, you just have to hold the hare still for him so the cuts are clean. Once the fur and skin is cut open, you can help roll and pull it away. It's hard at first. I'm still not as good as mama, but practice helps," Ursa nudges the hare closer to Bronze so that he can work easier. "Once it is flayed, uh the skin is all pulled away, we can lay them out with rocks on the ends to help it lay flat and then they can dry in the sun," the pup points a paw over to one of the skins she had setup the other day that is still drying beneath a few rocks.

It was only upon joining the Armada that Bronze had realized there was enough time for leisure activities, for honing certain skills and crafts - that was not something he'd ever had the liberty of discovering before. It was even more recent that he really understood just how fine such craftsmanship could be... from more simply things to things like what Ursa was doing, befriending a companion with dexterous hands and teaming up to skin an animal and use their pelts. It was interesting, Bronze wouldn't deny that. He watched carefully as she demonstrated, explaining that Mr. Raccoon (as he was so aptly named) would help slice the skin. He nodded understanding, doing as she said and helping pull the pelt straight. It wasn't long before the raccoon shuffled over and helped slice the skin, noting the way it cut straight thanks to the tension provided by his pulling. "I see," he mused, sounding thoughtful about the whole thing. "Do you have any specific plans for these once they dry?" He could come up with a few ideas, but he wanted to know if she had any of her own.