Bramblepoint Back beat, the word was on the street that the fire in your heart is out

Peregrine stared at the puddle of vomit between his feet, swirling his tongue around in his mouth as he swallowed his sour spit. Strangely, he felt incredibly hungry after emptying his gut. Well, perhaps that wasn't so strange. He hadn't thrown up due to nausea; it was the intensity of his headache that had caused him to puke. But it had died down a bit and now all the black wolf wanted to do was find something to eat.

He began moving slowly through the trees, walking slowly to avoid inviting his headache to reawaken or jostling his tender stomach. Honestly, though, he felt a lot better than he had even thirty minutes ago. And soon he struck the trail of a wild pig and began picking through the regrowth of underbrush in search of some hot, raw bacon.