It wasn't an answer Sonje didn't expect. She shrugged her thinning shoulders, drawing her tongue lavishly around her dry muzzle. A hunt or fishing (not her best suit, she grimaced inwardly) was what she'd been trying to avoid, but she'd been storing enough energy she supposed and she wasn't getting any fatter. I'm not, actually,
she answered, stiffening her jaw a little defensively. Just because she had no "home-court" advantage, she wasn't going to act like a push-over. This ultimately fueled her decision to rile up her young nerves and hunt. But I'm game, she added, taking her arms apart and getting fluidly up to her feet. She brushed off her tail and fluffed out her wavy hair, briefly acting uninterested in her counterpart.
Stay,
she said firmly, lifting her palm objectively towards Jagga's face. The mare acknowledged with a swish of her lank tail, and a noncommittal grunt. Sonje touched her horse's shoulder for luck and nodded to Sepirah. Shall we? She offered to let the dark woman lead — surely she knew the area better? Because unlike Sonje, Sepirah's pelt was densely coated with the scent of her pack. This kept the wolfdog on edge, but she was far too hungry to pass on help catching a meal. Two pairs of jaws were certainly better than one.
And as was her MO, she'd do it on two legs.