Fairspell Meadow i don't know where i'm going.

Whittier glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Sebastian splashing in the water. He at first had thought it was just residual splashing from his own exit up onto dry land, but now that he was standing there not making any more sound, he realized it had to be the other wolf. His heart sank at the sight of the gray wolf heading back towards him with the fish clutched between his teeth - a sight that would have thrilled him only minutes before. He felt guilt roil in his belly as the fish was dropped at his paws. He had actually tried to catch it that time, and had failed. He didn't deserve to be fed. Tricking someone into fishing for you and feeding you, totally on the up and up - he could've feasted like a king under those circumstances. But to actually try and fail? He deserved to starve.

The logic of youth. Or maybe of Whittier Frostfur. Who knows.

"Thanks," Whit mumbled, still feeling downtrodden. Watching it flopping feebly on dry land managed to stir his hunger again, and he reached down to begin tearing past its scaled underbelly. He tore at the tender flesh and gave a nod to Sebastian to confirm that this was not his first fish fry. Which wasn't to say he wouldn't swallow any of the spiny little bones, but he did at least know he'd regret it either going in now or out later.