quite eradicated
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The storm had begun while he worked, and Ezekiel continued to do so even as the drizzle turned into a full blown storm. He was hunched over in his den, fingers working without much thought. While he had little need to make or contain things in the wilderness, where he had lived for so long, coming to Inferni meant that he would have to rely on the territory. If they were ever to come to fault; if the deer grew too thin, if the valley flooded, then he would not simply be able to move on. So he had gathered water reeds and began weaving the basket to hold things. This one, likely, would be used to gather salt. It was water-tight and small. By filling it with water from the bay, he could dry the salt out. Repeated, there would be enough to make up for the gross amount used curing the buffalo meat.
A howl sounded, drawing him from his work. Ibsen, half-asleep on his perch, cawed and muttered about it being stupid to be in the rain. Ezekiel, however, knew his duty. With a grunt he rose to his feet and shifted to his lupus form. At least this way he could travel fast.
Four-legged, the hybrid trot-ran towards the point of origin. He was soaked through by the time he found the woman, some sort of hybrid, on their northern borders. Irritated, he approached her with all the high-held signs of his rank. “You picked a hell of a time to come here,” he said, then shook his neck. Water flew everywhere, though it hardly stopped the torrent that was still coming down.
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