Baird accepted he dagger back happily, glad that it had done such a fine job of slicing through the bloody flesh. He flipped it around in his hand and sank to the floor, seating himself with legs sort of crossed, as she also sat. He gave her a crooked grin as she admitted to not being the typical 'girl', he was already aware of the fact, and he appreciated it, he wasn't fond of girly girls and was pleased that the women he had already found in Nova Scotia were cut of the tough cloth.
He used his dagger to slice off chunk and slivers of meat from one of the legs that the other had gifted him. He was about to slip a chunk into the bag that Pan and the pups were in when he felt a tug on his paw. He looked down and saw Pan, two little paws placed on his, making him look at where she and the pups were, all of them clustered on the grass by his side, it seemed Pan had wanted to get out of the bag, and may have even been conscious of dirtying the kangaroo leather. He smiled at them and put the meat close to them, watching as they tucked in with gusto, the pups letting little growls out as they fed. He busied himself with slicing off thin strips of meat then, placing them on the other side of himself, holding them up to Gelar when he had enough. The bird took them, his beak stuffed to bursting, and flew off to eat in a tree, where he could gulp down the slivers in peace. Only then, one all of his animals were fed, did Baird consider feeding himself.
He chewed his meat silently as he listened to the other talk about the packs of Nova Scotia. He raised his blonde eyebrows as she talked of a pack called Salsola that enslaved trespassers. He had encountered slavery before, finding many Luperci who implemented the practise in Africa, but he found it entirely disgusting. He was not as shocked by the admission that a pack killed trespassers, knowing that many wolves were territorial, just as the dingo packs were back home. He shot her a smile, swallowing his mouthful of meat before talking, "Good to know, I'll be sure not to trespass then." He said, mentally assuring himself that he would be more aware and wary on pack borders.
It was only as she asked him name that he realised they hadn't introduced themselves, the drama of the hunt and meat overtaking them. He placed his dagger on the grass and held out his hand to her, leaning forward from his seat, "Baird Byrne. Pleasure to meet you...?" He left the question hanging in the air between them.
Photo courtesy of pierre pouliquin
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