There is so much for her to learn of the world. She knows of the carnal hunger that some males feel for women and yet she does not ever think upon it. She knows that Reich loves Everlyse. This was easy to tell by his looks, his touches, and she is accepting of such for it is the way of the world. Fjallraven does not see herself quite as others might. She is separate from them all, a weaker and lesser being and therefore nothing like that would be a problem for her. None would crave her skeleton body. Some might find his perusal offensive but she merely watches him with that open, unguarded expression as her tail lifts slowly in a wag. She could be a warrior, he thinks, and she does not want to disappoint him. Already Jericho has been ranked high in her mind, right next to Reich. Her head cocks to the side slightly, taking in his words and his mention of a sister. She bet Jericho taught his sister hunting too because in her mind he was a wonderful teacher - not that she had much comparison to go on.

"Maybe," she quips, not really sure how she might fit in with other warriors. It is an idea she shies from. She would think of some goal in life after she had mastered the basic skills. Hunting, stealth, and direction.

Her head cocks towards him in her guilt as he speaks to her. Reassures her that this is the way of the world. Maybe it is only because this is her first ever kill that she feels this way, that after three years of life she had actually been the executioner. "I am hungry," she admits in a rather strangled tone, clearly trying to fight through the guilt to see past the pained eyes of the dead creature. It was over now anyways she might as well eat her fill. His death would not be in vain. Fjallraven closes her eyes for a brief second as she sends up a prayer for his soul, a secret that she has never told any, her belief in the heavens and the fates above.

It is pleasing to her that he calls her little warrior. Her eyes seem to light up at the words and her ears perk in curiosity at his questioning. Had she done something wrong? It was only natural for her to let those greater than her eat before her. That is partly the reason that she is of very little sustenance herself.

Jericho's tone is now both coaxing and demanding. She is used to demands and falls in with no hesitance. "He is mine." Then he demands she tell the world and as she opens her maw about to tell the night air that the racoon is hers - amid a grumbling stomach - her friend lips his maw and sings. It brings back a memory of her as a child when her mother would sing to the sky, a mournful song, but she had stopped as Fjallraven grew older and forbid such singing. This is what Jericho wants.

Fjallraven sits up now and lifts her tiny face into the air, opening her maw and... nothing. For a moment nothing comes out as her body tries to remember how this is done. Then it bursts from her like the sound of angels singing, a sweet lullaby that tantalizes the night, and she finds joy in this. Once the singing stops she is upon the racoon with gusto, tearing into it and eagerly swallowing mouthfuls of meet unchewed in her haste to ease her belly ache. By the time she is done the racoon is but bones and clumps of meat at random intervals. She steps back from it with a sigh and sinks to her haunches to begin cleaning her paws and face with a blissful, drugged expression.

"I can't wait to tell Reich that I killed a racoon." She beams suddenly, jumping up and wagging her tail like a puppy. "But my nose still hurts." Fjallraven tries to peer at her nose, her eyes cross eyed in the attempt before she grins at Jericho. "Where are we going now?" She says it with such innocence, as if Jericho was always planning to take her someplace safe, as if he has offered such with his help of teaching her.