Larksong Grotto bag of bones

Worry clouded his thoughts now; worry for Vuk, for Seff, and lastly, for himself. He worried he wouldn't be able to provide for them, to capture enough food to help Vuk produce milk for the babe. At least he was able to find sticks for her, sticks from the berry plants his grandmother taught him about, sticks that would at least keep the gnawing hunger at bay. All this would be fixed when they found a pack. Terich was determined to find a pack for them, and if that meant fishing and rooting out smaller prey to feed to Vuk and abstain from himself, then so be it.

Finally they scented a pack nearby, and they crawled as close as they dared before Vuk howled for the leaders. Then she curled around Seff at his feet to wait, and despite the exhaustion that tugged at his bones, Terich-mir would not leave them unattended. He waited patiently for those that might come, his withered form bowed in respect, ears flat against his skull. Whoever found them would discover a pair of bone-thin vagrants, with a tiny spark of life between them. Terich licked Vuk's head and nuzzled Seff softly, hoping someone would come soon.