mint is spicy?

As she's joined by a man she hasn't met yet, her head shakes from one side to the next. There's a broken leg, and the leg isn't going to do her any good now-- so she adjusts, moving up the stranger's body while Úlfr held their head in place. She's quick at it-- efficient in a brutal way as she grabs at her axe and swings the axe up, lodging it neatly between Úlfr's paws, sinking the head of the axe into the stranger's neck. The maneuver had taken a moment to execute; she'd needed to adjust her stance to permit the proper angle, but she did it.

There was little left to do, afterwards-- the stranger gurgled and gasped. Bylgja reached for the axe, wrenching it from the stranger's body, watching blood pulse from the shorn throat.

Úlfr was regarded with a grateful look. Bylgja dipped her head -- she could have done this alone, but this was much easier. "Thank you," she said, ignoring the strange wolf now, who went limp in Úlfr's grasp. Bylgja wiped her blade clean on the snow and tucked it back away, turning her head towards Delphi and Strai. "It's done."

She didn't know what these wolves did with their dead. Back where she came from, the dead were harvested for parts-- broken down so that they would not be transformed by the foul creatures that stalked the land. But this place? Different. Very different. Bylgja wanted to harvest this stranger, sure, but she wanted to gauge the others, first. If all else failed, she'd break the body down in private and take what she wanted. "I will get rid of... this." A disdainful kick to the corpse.