Mary
Ifan simply glanced at her as she talked. "It's warm and didn't cost me anything." Once he had finished cleaning his blade, the shifter hunter returned the rag to its proper place and slid his weapon back into its sheath. Ifan approached the beast and grunted as he lifted it over his shoulder. He whistled several notes, which echoed between the trees until a large black horse arrived. Frosty air shot from its nostrils when it laid its eyes upon the shifter resting over Ifan's shoulder. Ifan walked to his horse and talked calmly to the beast before slinging the shifter's carcass over the horse's rump. Ifan also used several ropes to secure the carcass to his mount.

"They don't. When they are young they begin shifting, and if they don't shift, they die." His tone was matter of fact as he talked to the stranger. Ifan didn't recognize it, but he thought himself a sort of expert on the Wairua shifters.
James
Vanessa was shocked to say the least when he explained the shifter to her. "That's horrible." She commented before remembering this shifter had just tried to kill her. Shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, she dropped the shifter's skull and watched as it sunk into the snow. Her palms were now covered in blood but she didn't mind, instead she walked a couple steps away and watched the man with the horse. "Are they all bloodthirsty like that one?" She asked while throwing her thumb over her shoulder, pointing towards the head. "And how do you know so much?"
Mary
Ifan shrugged as she commented on the shifters' early struggle. Less shifters trying to kill him, and less for him to kill. The same thing really. As she dropped the head Ifan went to pick it up. There was an empty sack that hung from the horse's saddlebags. It didn't remain empty as Ifan approached the bag with the shifter's head, opening the sack and dropping the head inside. He had shaken most of the blood out on his walk to the horse.

"I know so much because I've spent my life fighting them. Hunting, more recently. There's a lot more out in the Far Gone." Ifan checked over the saddle and riding gear before going to retrieve his bow. He picked up the hunting weapon and stowed it after shaking the snow from the wood and string.