Luckily for them both, Ig seemed to have a plan in mind as soon as they began began to drag the carcass. They were both keenly aware how well (read: poorly) Sephira dealt with impatience. This was a boring thing, albeit necessary, and she wanted to do a fun, albeit completely and recklessly unnecessary thing. It was recipe for disaster. If they had been back home with other wolves around to act as distractions, she would have slipped away the moment she had wrapped up her meal. But noooo, she had to be somewhat responsible now. Lame.
Eventually Ig found a low-lying bit of earth, partially obscured by greenery, and they hauled the doe into place. Seph hurriedly assisted in kicking snow over her, and maybe sent a clump or two Ig's way as well. Total accident. Not intentional whatsoever. How could you even think something so heinous. Lies and slander. Anyways, eventually Ig was satisfied and gave his lordly blessing that they could proceed with the fun part of the day. Her selective memory had already forgotten the thrill of the hunt in the face of tedious post-hunt activities. Her ears perked and she began to shift from paw to paw, nearly dancing in place. "Betcha I can climb higher than you!"
And with that she spun on her heels, darting off towards the nearest lilting trunk. These trees really were utterly massive. Three or four wolves could easily walk abreast over most of them, some more and some less, of course. Craning her neck upwards it would appear that she could get into the canopy if she was careful. Or, you know, die. But what was life without a bit of risk? She scrabbled for purchase, hauling herself up onto the lowest bit of the trunk, then turned to look over her shoulder. Her party-pooper brother would probably tell her it was a dumb idea. She wasn't sure if she cared, but she at least wanted to make sure he knew where she was in case she needed buried later. One must always be prepared, right?
