Yuki padded nonchalantly into the pack clearing, her steel grey gaze listless and weary. She hadn't been sleeping all that well as of late; insomnia clawed like a crow's talons at her exhausted eyes whenever the placid blanket of night fell upon the frigid land, and she couldn't force herself to rest for more than an hour or two at most. It vexed her to no end, and she couldn't quite comprehend why she was being plagued by such an ordeal. Granted it had happened sometimes as a pup, but she thought she'd long grown out of it. Screw it. Maybe I'll just wait for my body to pass out. She huffed quietly to herself, kicking up a paw full of snow as she trudged on. Yet, in spite of her patently tiresome disposition, she felt restless, as if sleep was the very last thing she needed, no matter how much she may have desired it. She couldn't prevent herself from thinking aimlessly back to the war, how Lark had struggled and convulsed as she bled out in front of them, all the lifeless cadavers she'd glimpsed, and the fact that Teren was holding a captive in their midst who did not deserve the evil he intended to force upon her. She glanced warily at the alpha's den for a brief moment, her stomach churning with a bitter guilt and resentment. She knew she shouldn't care, that it wasn't her problem and acting would no doubt hinder her own goals, but she was quietly distraught by the thought of not trying to help her. She couldn't help but think that it could have been her sister in that dire position, and she growled softly to herself, her eyes narrowing into a painfully harsh glower as she turned her snout back towards the snow covered ground. The sooner that bastard croaks the better. For everyone.

Her attention was suddenly drawn towards a diminutive trail of red disrupting the whiteness in minuscule splotches, and she stared in silent curiosity at the tiny splatters before moving her snout down to catch the scent. Canid blood, but not a wolf's. She deduced after a moment before lifting her head once more, a languid smirk tugging at the edge of her maw as she padded slowly onward. Someone had quite an interesting hunt. She came upon the killer within a few moments, and she halted a few feet behind her, the long, fresh scars across her chest and shoulder aching slightly from her lack of rest. In front of her stood a grey pelted she-wolf, seemingly younger than her, but not by too many years. On the ground beneath her paws lay the still carcass of what looked to be a fox, its pelt about as red as her own, if not more so. Its neck was obviously broken, and the fae stood uncertainly over her kill, as if she was waiting for someone to tell her what to do with it. "That's certainly a wholesome meal." She remarked sarcastically as she smirked down at the limp carcass, her natural inclination to tease easily surfacing. "What possessed you to kill something too scrawny to eat?"

The russet furred fae chortled at her benign attempt to insult her, her maw pulled back in a patently amused smirk and her steel gray gaze sharp and observant. "Oh yes, what a noble purpose for killing! To hang a scrap of fur up for aesthetic; that's totally not a complete waste of time and energy in the dead of winter." She snickered through her sarcastic response, her nonchalant voice lacking the malicious reproach it often denoted. Perhaps it was merely because the arrogant she-wolf was so young; she knew she was little to no threat to her. She had much to experience before she resolved herself to know the true nature of the malevolent world, and she assumed it was fairly stupid to lash out at a juvenile. She was oblivious to ultimate suffering, but she would not be forever. Her smug words and attitude could never even come close to breaching the high wall of mocking defense she had so meticulously built around herself.

Her eyes widened abruptly at her inquire, and she was still for a moment before she erupted into unbridled cackling, her still healing wounds aching and stinging with the force of her raucous laughter. "Me, go in there?" She guffawed as she slumped over in the soft, powdery snow, as if to exaggerate the hilarity of the notion. "I think I'd rather fling myself off of Satan's Edge!" She huffed as her scathing laughter quieted into occasional chuckling, a noticeably bemused carelessness infecting her jocular tone. "And I have no doubt any male would do the same at the prospect of courting someone as ugly as myself. I'll admit kid, you did make a fairly intelligent observation; that fox and I do look a great deal alike."

She was somewhat confounded when the she-wolf asked what those who had entered planned to do, though the surprise on her expression easily melted into brash, emboldened smirk, her usually cruel silver gaze unexpectedly soft as she regarded her. "Wow. You really are little more than a pup." She commented bluntly before rising to her paws and stalking towards her kill, her demeanor far more relaxed than it had previously been. "I think I'll take up your offer, if only for the free meal." She stated simply, her tone resolute as she shifted her sharp gray gaze down towards the perished fox. She may have thought her reasoning frivolous, but at least if she indulged her the animal would not have died for nothing.

"The best place to start is around the hind paws. There's a very thin boundary between the skin and the muscle, and it sticks harder around the paws, tail, ears, and snout, so you'll want to work slowly there. It pulls off pretty easily everywhere else though." She explained before lowering her jaws towards the animal's hind legs and carefully biting the loose flesh around its paw, slowly severing the hide from the muscle as she gradually peeled the skin back. She released her grip before she took the incision too far, her attention moving back towards her pack mate. "You want to move from the back to the front, taking off the skin around the muzzle last. It's easiest if you keep the hide taut, and after it's off you might want to hang it inside out somewhere to dry." She didn't really mind this; she wasn't the best skinner, but she had been a hunter at first, and this was fairly standard knowledge of someone of her former rank. She just didn't think there was much use in utilizing the skill.

The russet furred fae glanced incredulously at her company as she registered her inquire, a jocular smile twitching at the edge of her maw. "What happens when wolves court?" She snickered lowly, her liltingly sweet tone dripping with patent sarcasm. "Well, when two wolves decide they're in love, they start wishing for pups. A magic bird, heeding their greatest desire, then descends from the sky and subsequently offers them a bundle of off spring." She cackled softly to herself for a moment until she realized the younger fae might take what she said seriously, and her chuckling immediately subsided. Hasoka had told them the same exact story when they were young, and in their naivety they believed it, for as long as they could, anyways.

"I'm just screwing with you. Pups usually are the end result of the... Process, I guess, but I'm not going to tell you how that works." She stated pointedly, her formerly bemused tone suddenly austere and resolute. She narrowed her steel gray gaze in momentary bewilderment, her head tilting slightly to the right as she regarded the juvenile in her endeavor. "How come you don't know that stuff already? Shouldn't your mother have told you?" She inquired dubiously, her demeanor casual as she lackadaisically crunched her side in to reach an inch behind her ear with her hind leg.

She straightened up once more when the younger female motioned towards a stray rock with her snout, the bright red pelt hanging limply from her jaws. "Yeah, that should work." She stated simply, her assertion followed shortly by a long yawn. The lack of sleep really was beginning to irk her, but she was restless all the same, her paws stinging with a weary energy and her eyes utterly refusing to remain shut. Her usually analytical gaze drifted swiftly back towards the skinned carcass, it's pink, skinless body inducing a low rumble from her hollow stomach. The meal really wasn't much- it was fairly inefficient to hunt other predators, whose bodies were as slim and streamline as their own. Still, she could not deny her hunger, and she sank her teeth into the cadaver's exposed flesh before tearing off a solid chunk, the meat warm and welcome to her tongue. "Do you want some?" She asked nonchalantly after she swallowed, her disposition placid and relaxed. She was the one who'd killed it, after all.