Stone Circle so i'll follow the birdsong

He didn't want to walk anywhere ever again. All he had ever wanted to do was lounge around, and it was a trial getting him to even move this far. As their journey grew longer, Ephraim grew grumpier and less compliant; by the time they reached Easthollow he was very nearly out of control, inconsolable, and impossible to corral. Even Kierkegaard, who frightened him, was unable to affect him in his foul mood.

Lazy as he was, Ephraim was not a fan of long trips, especially ones with missed meals. As far as he was concerned, everyone that made him come this far could get dead. Especially that pup.

As Caiaphas placed Svalinn on the ground, the masked coywolf fixed him in a hateful crosshairs that only lifted when an unfamiliar she-wolf presented something he couldn't ignore. His stomach screamed the second the pheasant hit the ground and, heedless of any sort of manners—it wasn't like his parents were great role models for good manners and even if they were, he was too far gone in his temper for that—he rushed it, grabbed it by the neck, and began tugging it greedily toward some undetermined spot for himself and his siblings.

Because fuck you, mom and dad, for taking him on the the world's worst vacation.