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Also feeling quite happy with not having to speak anymore, Duskwater silently fell in behind the wildtype. He could tell that she wasn't too comfortable with him, and he had a small hunch about how unusual it must be for her to speak to a stranger, simply from how she was behaving.

And still, she was doing her best to be of help to the clan. He nodded to himself. Perhaps he should do his best to make her feel a little more comfortable around him. Obviously, one way was to remain silent and not push her to speak too much, until she perhaps felt comfortable enough to attempt conversation on her own again, but before he did that, there was one thing that he could do to let her know that he wasn't averse to further conversation.

He slid up next to her, so that he wouldn't have to raise his deep voice too much. "By the way, my name is Duskwater, Miss. What's yours?"

Hopefully, that should do it.

Rosinweed. Rosin. Duskwater nodded to himself, committing the name to memory.

Then he suddenly turned without the slightest warning and flew soundlessly into the bushy brances of a tree, where his talons found a steady perch. After landing, he remained utterly still for a while, eyes and ears intently focussed on the ground below.

He was sure that he had heard something.

The moment that he heard the first faint rustlings, Duskwater's head swivelled towards the sound, his wings unfolded and he leaned forward slightly, ready to tip himself off the branch in an instant. However, when he saw the skurri, he hesitated. Skurris almost always belonged to someone. Mus were one thing, but skurris were more rare, more carefully kept. Sure, this one was probably trespassing in Miss Rosin's territory, but he still didn't feel comfortable killing companion animals without explicit permission from the keeper/owner.

Mus were the exception, of course. They bred with wild mice, sometimes, and the offspring could be very hard for a layman like himself to separate from the keeper-bred ones. According to Dusk, mus were fair game as long as they were unmarked.

He was just about to fold his wings again when another subtle rustle caught his attention. His head swivelled that way, and the moment that he could identify the creature as a young common hare, he left his perch as soundlessly as a breeze. It was moving very slowly and had just bowed its long-eared head down to graze. The timing was perfect.

The young hare had no chance to escape. The moment that it became aware of Dusk's massive bulk he was mere inches away from it. It turned on the spot, fast as only a panic-stricken beast can be, but Dusk's claws shot out and embedded themselves in the soft skin and flesh of its back - in the next moment the ground was ripped away from under the hare's paws.

Stoically ignoring the hare's terrified struggles, Dusk flew up into the safety of the trees again. Finding a good, stable perch, the elite had soon made short work of the long-eared creature, and looked up to make sure that he hadn't lost track of Miss Rosin in the process.

Duskwater appraised her and gave a brisk nod.

"Indeed. I think, if you catch one more thing that's not too big, I can take that and the mus and..." Noticing something nervous, restless about the Wildtype, he cut himself off and studied her more closely, an alert frown on his painted face.

"What's wrong, Miss Rosin?"

"Ah. I see." Duskwater nodded his understanding. Of course she was worried about her friends and family. Everybody probably was, right now.

"Well then. If you would rather go and make sure that your artisan... friend? is all right, I could take this and the Mus, and maybe the nuts and berries that your companions have gathered, if you have some little bag to lend me to carry them in, and head on in to the Central Distribution Platform for you." He sent her a small and only slightly awkward, but encouraging smile. "You'll hunt better when you aren't distracted."

Duskwater blinked a few times as the pale Wildtype disappeared in a hurry. He made a half-hearted gesture of following her, but sank back on his perch again and preened himself pensively. And sure enough, she was back in a flash, with a bag all packed and ready. Some little part of Dusk almost felt as though he was being thrown out on his tailfeathers, albeit in a rather polite way, but he decided not to think too much of it.

Actually, he wa a bit happy to leave, himself. The female's tension was starting to rub off on him, and he was feeling slightly restless.

"Excellent, Miss Rosin. Thank you very much for your help." He sent her another brief little smile and took the bag in his talons, along with the hare. It was a bit heavy, but he felt confident that he could make it to the Distribution Platform without any trouble. He gave Miss Rosin a curt but not unfriendly bob of his head, thought that he should say something in parting, but - since nothing really came to mind - settled for yet another little smile. "Goodbye, then."

And he was off.