Twisted Slough In just no time at all

aw!  Rolled in chat for the foodstuffs ;)

Leaving so soon and so often hurt, especially when every cell in his being wanted to be nowhere but standing next to his little family and watching them discover more of the world each day.  

But seeing Osprey's body thin out hurt worse, and he knew she understood his absence.  There was little to no food in the pack claim, so he continued to spread outward, long trips hunting to return (sometimes successful, sometimes not) and then set out once more.  He kept to the coastal regions at least, unable to bring himself to spend more than a few days away at most.  

There was no big game; the herds had disappeared.  But small could still occasionally be found or scavenged, thankfully.  When he got lucky.  And today, it seemed, he had.

He didn't know what had killed the weasel, and while its lean corpse didn't hold much by way of sustenance, Dante practically leapt on it in eagerness.  Grasping it, he felt temptation rise to dig in and eat it right here.  But this food was for his family, and to them it would go.  He could share in later or find another.

Warily he looked around, then turned to circle back, paws sinking slightly in the murky ground.  This wasn't an area he knew well, and suddenly he was on edge.  He couldn't lose this prize.