Silvertip Mountain So you embrace them in the hopes that you'll survive

Whoops. Nice going, Day.

Grayday gave an agreeable huff in answer as he nosed hungrily at the otter. He hadn't meant to be critical of her family. Hard times were hard times, and he was proving himself. He had the otter, after all. And while he'd've loved to take her advice and scarf down the whole thing, he was reluctant to partake before offering it to Steady, and to the rest of the pack as well. Threat or no threat, he'd meant what he said at the border. He was not here to be fed, but to feed others.

"This is the first thing I've caught in a while," he admitted. "But I had help along the way. I think I should take this back to the others. It's only right - I ate the kills of others, and so some one other than me should be eating this. At least this first kill."

He picked up the otter and looked questioningly back at her, hoping she would walk with him to the den. He wasn't sure how to face the others, yet, as he'd mostly been keeping to himself.