Broken Boulder chutes too narrow

Tweed's chest heaved up and down against the cold snowy ground. He was at peace with his life in that moment, ready to give himself as sustenance so that this other wolf could live. Instead, she spoke more words, which he (again) did not hear. When he felt something on his stomach, Tweed flinched, assuming that it was her teeth grating against his tender flesh. But no pain came, and he opened one eye to find her sitting a few feet away.

He wanted to explain that he had not forgotten it. He wanted to explain that she was supposed to be his salvation. He wanted to explain that he had left it for her so she would, at the very least, give him a swift death. But his throat was dry, his voice unused for so long, and he was not even sure he could form the words if he tried. So instead, he pushed himself onto his elbows and pulled the rib close, never taking his gaze off the female. Surely it was only a matter of time before she changed her mind.