Wapun Meadow desperation

Little by little he transfered the bits of the animal in to the small pit he had dug. It might not have been deep enough but Larus didn't really think about that. As he was covering over the remains he did notice that some of the bloodied bits of the animal were still visible over the soil; any snowfall would further mask it but it was likely to rot if exposed to moisture for too long. He huffed softly, clearly out of practice, and tried to carefully unearth some of it and fix the issue.

When he was finally finished there was no red to be seen, except for where it had streaked the snow from the strange wolf's earlier tussling. The ground had a small dome to it still and the food had been properly covered, so he was not worried. Larus then dropped on to the ground shoulder-first (almost like he was going to do a somersault) and wiggled about frantically, imparting scent from the gland between his shoulders. 

He flailed a bit as he rolled to his side, then staggered to his feet and shook a dusting of snow off of his pelt, fixing a satisfied look upon the dark-faced stranger.