He sure doesn't remember Steve Rogers. Sure, he doesn't like to kill, but he was in a war zone and knows when it's necessary. Killing, right now, is just as necessary no matter how distasteful he finds hunting, usually. Lord knew he'd killed worse during some hard missions overseas. Both of them had. But right now Steve was the only one holding onto those memories and the man next to him didn't need more ghosts on his heels.

He tosses the stone behind him and cracks off the branch instead. It's thick and will probably do just fine with his strength applied to it. Provided that doesn't make it shatter, of course, but it's not like he couldn't fight with his hands. The Winter Soldier wasn't the only one who could handle himself.

Which Steve does absolutely nothing to prove when he nods over to his partner and pulls back the rustling bush to expose what's on the other side. It's not big animals; the thing is probably only about as big as a rabbit with ears just as large. But that's about where the similarities end since the rest of their bodies are much more like an armadillo with all the bald skin and textured hide. A big-eared armadillo. With fangs and claws.

There's also about twenty of them who all hiss in Steve and Soldat's direction before swarming forward.

"Well!" Steve says as he braces himself and smacks one into a tree while another tries to bite his leg. "At least we'll have plenty of meat!"