Emberwood signing off, i'm alright in bed but i'm better with a pen

he's chasing a fox when the scent of pack drifts his direction, and he slows instinctively. he realizes a moment later he's botched his own hunt, so he halts entirely, expelling air harshly through his nose. it's likely for the best, but he can't help feeling a little sour as he turns to trudge in the opposite direction. independence is fun and all, but sometimes he wishes just one thing could be easy.
it's a little too much to ask, apparently. whatever. he likes his freedom, so he doesn't complain too much — out loud, at least. mostly because he doesn't actually have anyone to complain to, but, irrelevant little details.