Redhawk Caldera My mind's a jungle, it's dark and wild

Lack of food had taken its toll. Once rambunctious and ever on foot, now the bandit could be found pooling what remained of his energies in the stretching shade of a tree trunk. It frustrated him; his mind said go but his body protested, and his efforts did not take him far before his legs dropped out from under him and he sprawled on the ground with an exhausted puff. His penchant for biting and chewing on anything he came across was now backed by an urgent need, and presently, he munched on the twigs strewn in front of him, and clods of dirt, and went so far as to roll rocks on his tongue.

Still with a stone pinched lightly between his molars, Ferret dozed, before awakened by his father's summons. He may have ignored his father's call, had it not chimed that dinner had been served at last. This spurred the bandit to his paws, and he called upon the last of his vigor to hurry him to the ration that had been set aside from him. He barged in, ravenous and reckless, and latched onto a haunch with growl. He eyed his father with suspicion, his hackles raised as he proceeded to jerk and drag his offering away, hell bent on finding a secluded area where he could consume his food without interference.