He hadn't pondered the origins of that word, instead simply picked it up from some book or another that he had read and learned how to use it in context. Now that she voiced her question the strangeness of the word became immediately obvious to him. He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment as he thought, his amber eyes drifting upwards. Hemming could picture birds pecking at their lunch, and it seemed to be about how he was feeling. "Hm, maybe!" A laugh escaped him, and he lifted a hand above his eyes as he peered down the shoreline.
"Sounds good," the wolf replied as he started to walk closer to the ocean, the salty waves starting to lick at his feet as he drew closer. There were little critters all about, including crabs like the one that had chased them down the beach, but now that the excitement had died down Hemming paid them little mind. He moved further and further into the water, eyes scanning the pool in front of him for anything that they could eat. Fish were delicious, and now that he was finished his fast they'd be an even more delectable treat.
Just as he spotted an admittedly tiny fish, the male put his foot down onto something hard. It gave a great crack beneath him, and he lifted his foot up immediately with a little startled gasp. As he put it down carefully, he bent closer to the water, reached in, and pulled out a very finished crab. Frowning a little, as killing something was sad especially when it was by accident, he placed the thing on top of his head for safe keeping. Ever since Dagrun had taken up residence there (today she had other business to attend to, apparently), it seemed like a rather convenient place to store things.
Crab seemed like a good idea, and they were easier to catch with one's bare hands than were fish. The wolf grabbed another one, dispatching it with a good bop of a rock, and headed back to the beach. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten crab, but surely it would be delicious.