Big Salmon Lake You're gonna need a bigger boat

He had intended to set out immediately, but the next morning found the bloodied and battered wolf still lingering near the lake. He had tried, but he staggered more than he walked, still dizzied from the thump on the head the spruce had given him. His leg throbbed and each step pained his body, which was thoroughly bruised about his midriff from the tree's not so gentle embrace. So, he rested that day, through the evening and night, and most of the following morning. The dizziness had mostly left him, and so he would try again.

He rose, and began to walk. Slowly, and wincing at first, but he acclimated to his pain and discomfort. Hunger found him then, but unfortunately, the sun had taken its toll on the buffet of fish the twister left in its wake. No longer fresh food for the taking, the fish had become a foul, decomposing mess. He had eaten carrion before, but as he bent to sniff at a salmon he found his appetite wane. Had the fish been baked in the sun properly, dried, he would have been thrilled. But these fish? Their flesh was falling off of them as they transformed into a sludge fit only for maggots.

The birds were not so picky. His head lifted to gaze at one bird, a gull, and for a fleeting moment he considered hunting it, but he knew he was in no condition to stalk nor sprint and jump in the way required to catch that bird. As it flew to pick at another fish, he spotted red fur. Was it that fox again? No. Was it the Fox? He hastened to the other, finding not the matriarch of the caldera but a young pup stooped over after having gotten sick.

"Are you ok?" he asked quietly. He did not doubt for a moment that this was one of Peregrine's offspring, for who else but him and Fox could produce such a small, fiery girl?