The Heartwood Branching out

Hope you don't mind me poppin' in here!  :)

The hunger plagued him like a sinister shadow.  His life certainly wasn't in any danger -- he managed to scrounge up just enough to keep his body functioning -- but the maddening ache of hunger never went away.  With each day, it only grew more consuming.  All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep, conserve his energy and wait for the herds to return.  But he knew that to lie down during a famine was to submit himself to death.  

He knew that he needed to join a pack, and soon.

He didn't even know where he was right now.  He'd followed the river south until it branched off into the stripped, barren remains of what might have been a lush, green wood before the swarms came through.  Here, the river became a slightly smaller tributary, whose calmer waters wove between naked, somber trees whose crooked limbs arced skyward as if seeking renewal from the sun itself.  He followed the stream for a while, figuring that if there was any prey to be found in these areas, it wouldn't venture very far from sources of water.  His dark eyes alternately scanned his surroundings and watched the moist riverbank for tracks or other signs of game, while his ears remained on the alert for any sounds nearby.

It was while he was doing this that he spied the darker-coated wolf ahead, also lingering near the riverbank like himself.  He didn't feel up to socializing much, but maybe this stranger had seen something.  So, pushing aside his reservations, he approached with an amiable waving of his tail and asked, "Any luck?"