Meadowlark Prairie in flanders fields

Being young, strong and with no responsibilities to tie him down at one place, Birk was free to do, whatever he wanted. And after spending almost two years of his life fighting and working hard for his survival, he had learned to quite enjoy the comparatively easy lifestyle in the South. He had become a little lazy, he knew that and had no inclination to change it at present moment. 

Yet even the stomachs of lazy people get empty and demand their share and, since Birk could not tell his growling belly to chill out, he was on the lookout for food. As interesting as the lake had been, he had no other use. Prey hid itself in the meadows and nearby forests. It says that approximately 1 in 10 hunts are lucky, but the young man spotted something that looked rather edible from the distance on the first take.

Only, when he had approached the dark wolf that was lying on it's side in the middle of the meadow, being very much alive, did he feel a tad bit disappointed and cheated. The second and better look in the girl's direction told him that he might have been luckier than he thought - it was always a bonus, if you got to chat with a pretty creature and this surely belonged to that group. 

"You know, it's rather reckless to lie like this..." he began, stopping at safe distance, but close enough to be heard well. "... Big Bad Bears, for instance have a sweet tooth for pretty, little girls." He said this with a crooked grin.