Moonspear go out fighting

They made quick work of dispatching the caribou that had been singled out, and the short time it took for Charon to snuff its life out was about as much of a breather as Dirge needed. It was his hunger that was enticed now, his tongue snaking out to lick his chops in wait. He dared to close a bit of that distance between himself and their quarry, eyes shifting between Charon and Dune shrewdly. As soon as the opportunity arose and he was allowed, Dirge dug in for his cut.

The still warm meat was tender amd tasteful, a far better cry than the random pickings Dirge had bothered to secure for himself as of late. He didn't eat more than he could handle—this meal had to and would sustain more than just their trio—before moving off to roll in the snow contentedly. He'd linger now, waiting on Dune to finish before helping in whatever sort of interring to a cache they'd perform.