Buffa-Low

Wendigo had spotted the white-pelted yearling Marrow where she'd settled to watch the buffalo herd. He tilted his head to the side, intrigued - was she planning on chasing them or just watching? She couldn't hunt them alone - hell, they couldn't hunt one just the two of them together, either, but saliva pooled on his tongue at the thought of the rich buffalo meat. Maybe... maybe they could find a way. Chase them off a cliff or something. Well, no cliffs here so they might be shit out of luck unless they could miraculously pull more hunters out of the grass like a rabbit from a magician's hat. The shadow-striped Saxe crept up next to Marrow, watching the bison hungrily himself. "A sparrow for your thoughts?" he murmured to her. He liked the way the young wolf thought - she might just be clever enough to pull those hunters out of thin air after all.