Cedar Sweep i'll follow the sounds of wings

Winter was notorious for dwindling everything, this Dirge knew. Though he had been fortunate enough to grow in a warmer climate, here was another story. It was no surprise to him that the bird had been her prime choice, as larger game remained out of the reach of solo hunters, and smaller game much more difficult to find and capture with the ever-changing terrain and conditions.

He nodded to her words—he had been there too. Scavenging had its perks, but it was less savory and filling. There were few things that stood out and ahead of something warm and fresh and of course the added satisfaction of a swift kill. Winter was not a kind season for them, but then again it was equal in its unkindness towards those that banded together.

"And with a pack nearby I don't imagine we'll find much else. No doubt they've run the deer thin," and just as possible, the deer and elk were smart enough to migrate away. "I can't say I've seen an impressive amount of them still alive. Even the bones are getting harder to find."