Silver Creek two-toed sloths cannot shiver to stay warm

In the days following her becoming a member of Silver Creek, Sansa spent her time familiarizing herself with the territory and seeking out ways to contribute to the pack. Being a bit of a perfectionist, she hated to think she was ‘bad’ at anything. Saena had made it quite clear what she expected of her subordinates, and Sansa wasn’t willing to disappoint. She’d learn all the names of her pack mates and take on a trade, but first she wanted to memorize the ins and outs of her new home.
 
She’d dedicated her morning to helping scent-mark the borders while she studied the land. The female felt a sort of prideful satisfaction in adding her scent to those of the Creek wolves. It was the first time Sansa had been part of a pack that didn’t consist only of family members, but she was the type to embrace change. She liked to think that she could handle anything and everything life threw at her.
 
The summertime heat began to swelter as the day wore on, and the Eta found herself seeking a cool respite at the river. As she trekked long, a blur of ashen fur in the near distance caught her eye. Sansa strode swiftly after the wolf whose specific identity was unknown to her, but whose scent matched that of the Creek.
 
She couldn’t make out what exactly he was chasing until he skidded to a halt, panting from the intense effort he’d dedicated to his hunt. Sansa slowed a short ways away, ears tipped in the male’s direction as she wondered why he’d given up. Then, she, too, caught sight of the hawk taking to the air with a rabbit clutched tightly within its talons.
 
“Oh my god.” And she laughed, unable to control her terrible humor and disbelief toward her pack mate’s cruddy luck.