Tuktu Weir The only F word is Fun

maybe im stalking all your threads

Having swooped down from the plateau, Dovev was entering a wide basin criss-crossed with snowmelt streams. His usually muscular form was langly and patched with tufts of fur: a product of mange, which was finally being beaten back. He had covered quite a distance since reentering Teekon, and found just enough to eat. The carcasses, meager rodents, and fingerlings always left him salivating for more. Hopefully this year would take a turn when things grew again- Dovev was fed up.

The water body glimmered in the late sky, its mud banks hinting at reedy shoots. He stopped to scan the area, only to see a wolf rifling through unpromising branches stacked against the lakeshore. Immediately Dovev's mouth curled. The thought of another of his kind, competiting against him for any available resources set him blazing. During his wanderings, he was more than happy to acquise to packs and other loners, but he had grown ever hungrier. This small creature was a challenge to his hunt for food around the lake, no matter how empty it was. Dovev wouldn't be opposed to even killing this stranger- he wasn't one to balk at cannibalism.