His nose wrinkled at her question. Was he good at hunting? Did she want his help or not? He shrugged, his dark lips pinched tight. Sure, he was good. Weren’t all wolves reasonably good at hunting? His ears cupped forward as she continued, stating that she had stumbled upon a rabbit trail before his arrival. Perhaps, if they were lucky, he could bring something home for his leaders (or Pumpkin Eyes). Maybe even two rabbits, depending how many they stumbled upon. Unless, of course, the ebony girl had something else planned. Like murder. Or reporting him to her alphas. He did not know whether to trust her or not, but he was hungry.
Plus, returning with a warm meal would earn him brownie points with the Edge Lords.
Sure, he responded with another shrug as he followed in behind the girl, his mismatched gaze never once leaving her dark frame. Just in case. Lead the way. It was her trail, after all. Her pack’s territory-ish. He was just glad he wasn’t getting scolded for sniffing around the borders. That was the last thing he needed—not when his own pack apparently had a good relationship with hers.