Broken Boulder chutes too narrow

His belly ached. His feet ached. His eyes ached. His ears ached. Hell, even his tail ached. Tweed was tired, hungry, and ready to collapse. But he didn't. The struggle for survival had yet to give up, and his physical body kept him moving, even his mental and emotional pieces were ready to give up. Soon, though, even that piece would fail, and he would finally be free of this torture some called life.

An old, rotten carcass caught his attention, and he lazily altered his path to move toward it. The thing was disgusting on multiple levels, but he snapped his teeth at the crows and began to dine on what was left of the carrion, eating so fast he was likely to vomit some of it back up. At which point he would eat it again and again until it finally went down.