Blackfeather Woods Don't do that. Don't.

The boy was swimming with thoughts.
questions

like, for example, the whole dilemma of eating wolves. could one do such a thing? his mother bit and tore at many, though not once had he seen her eat a wolf like he saw her eat rabbit, or deer. it was with these thoughts and more that the boy came across a body. he was a wanderer, a silent thinker with no nt for social interaction, and he did not think anyone here as he gazed on the mangled body without much emotion other than curiosity. the body was dead. this he knew for it was still, and still things were dead. unless, of course, they were sleeping, or pretending to be dead. all very confusing,  he though in silence. but things that were alive woke up if you sat on them, most of the time, as he had discovered from past experience. thus, he cambered onto the corpse and sat on it's head, staring down at its face. it did not stir, and thus he knew it was dead. he lowered his muzzle and sniffed- it had an odor, too. dead-smell.