I GIVE YOU ALL THE WOOD, TALL ONE.
The rust-and-cream coyote nodded at her assessment, and let her take as much wood as she could carry; there wasn't any to stop her even if she wanted to. Her shoulders slouched in relief from the burden taken away from her, but that was all the discomfort she showed. Even though she was nowhere near as tall as her companion, she was used to carrying heavy things and never voiced a complaint when doing so. The heavy things, after all, were usually her own projects: bows, spears, wood carvings. The only difference now was that it involved the whole clan, and she was not expected to do it alone.
Alma's ears swiveled back upon hearing a somewhat familiar voice. Her head tilted upward to stare into the tree's branches. She recognized the short woman as the one who had made fun of her when she was afraid to enter the mansion, although she was a bit pudgier than she remembered. The archer wasn't sure if she should still resent her for that incident, or pretend it never happened. The clan was in danger, after all and it wouldn't do any good to be fighting among themselves.
The coyote eventually settled on caution. She'd defend herself if the woman tried to pick on her again, but until that happened, she would be polite... or indifferent, at least. She gave a nod to show she had heard her words, then turned her eyes back to Myrika to hear her suggestion. "That sounds unwieldy." She gave a slight frown, "We'd need to make sure it isn't too big or too small, which would be difficult to tell while on the ground, and then get it past all those branches when we're finished."
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