[Hyenadog]

Hits listened with a look on his face like a curious child, wolves sounding so different from his own people, yet somehow similar. "We exile our useless...those who have no skills to pass on, or have gone mad in their old age. Those with injuries that prevent them from being useful...Sometimes they hang around and pick scraps off the bones. But its usually the children's job to chase them off." He said, tilting his head. "Sometimes we held ceremonies where an elder of note would kill themselves. All the strongest hunters would then eat some of them. Not all of it tho...sort of taking a piece of a great hunter into themselves to take in his skill." He said, shrugging. Then we bury the rest." He nodded

He flipped the meat over to let the other side cook, shifting to sit closer to Storm.