Broken Boulder The Bountiful Famine

@Orkan

    Food. Lokk always enjoyed food. He also missed food when it wasn't around...like now.
    Lokk stepped one paw in front of the other. Slow and methodical. His typical jovial self seemed to slip away as memories, exhaustion, and hunger slowly wore him down. Lokk's heavy paws shuffled through dry soil without ever noticing that he left the hard packed snow of the mountains months ago. He had seen no other signs of life other than the occasional mouse, weasel, or grouse that continued to feed his ever shrinking stomach.
    Lokk's paw tripped over an overturned root sticking out of the ground like a cougars claw. He stumbled forward, tried to raise himself, then just laid down again looking straight ahead into the eyes of nothing.
    Well, He thought to himself with a little chuckle in his throat and a glimmer of his old self, if I die then maybe all these trees will give me a proper farewell. I hope the service doesn't last too long. After all, every wolf knows how long a tree can talk.
    He chuckled again, which turned into a cough, which turned into a whimper. He slowly closed his eyes to rest just for a minute.