Skoll listens intently to the prayer - he'd never seen this ritual before. Does the pack do this when they hunt? He hasn't learned about the traditions well yet.

As quick as the fight had begun, it had ended just as swiftly. Skoll eyes the red coating the ground underneath the two bodies, and only stands when Lestan has stood himself. "Hello."

"I haven't yet." He replies, shaking his head.

The still body of the stag is eerie against the life around it. Skoll knows things must die for them to live, but seeing something so large is intimidating. How fleeting the life of a stag must be. Do they talk with their kind like the wolves do?

He doesn't want to think about someone begging for their life as they die. Perhaps the stag was okay with this. Nature commands the cycle of life and death.