As the female spoke, Nezera couldn't help but nod along, her own thoughts churning as the idea took root. It was possible - if they disguised their scents enough, Nezera could scout the border of the den, see what they were dealing with. If all else failed, the scent of death would be enough to dissuade the pack from attacking her outright - she would smell like them, look like them, and she could act like them if she needed to.
"We roll in the carcass, disguise our scents. You'll be with me as a distraction, lure them away if we need to - not that I couldn't take them on by myself," she added haughtily, "but then I can continue to search if we're interrupted. If I'm smart about it... they would consider me a rogue."
She looked at the female then, head cocking as she studied her. It seemed her opinion of Yukon wasn't too far off - the wolf clearly had her wits about her.
"I don't like it, but I know what carcass we need," Nezera muttered, skin prickling at the thought. Without another word, she took off in the direction they had come, keeping up a steady trot this time - there was no need to sprint, to wind themselves and be faced with a potential foe while at their weakest. The time passed slowly, seconds ticking by as the moon continued her climb in the sky. They passed Nezera's former border, her scent already doused by the sickening smell of death. As she pushed further, she kept herself alert, ears pricked for any sound and eyes sweeping the terrain.
No wolves came to intercept them, and Nezera was thankful for the gentle breeze blowing their scents away as she pushed on, crossing into territory she had only explored once before.
With a sigh, she slowed, the bitter smell carrying to her on the wind. Though they hadn't been friends, it disappointed her to see the brutish male's carcass, rotting away as the days passed. He had been good to her, nice even, helping when she asked for information. Now, at her feet, the empty eye sockets of Faolon, her former ally, looked blankly into her soul. She allowed her head to droop slightly for a second, the weight of what she was about to do overwhelming her before she shoved it away.
"I'm sorry," she muttered to the corpse, before siddling up next to it and rolling.
The smell was overwhelming, causing her to gag in disgust and despair as she felt the sticky coating of long-wasted blood smother her fur. A bone prodded into her side, and she stifled a groan as she shuddered, rolling once more to ensure she was coated before rising. Her eyes held no light, void of feeling as she boxed away the emotion that raged to be let free. She had no time to mourn, no time to consider the atrocity she had committed. Instead, she moved to the side, throwing her head at the large female before her.
"Do I smell like them?"