Broken Antler Fen J'attendrai

@Thorn

He'd fallen behind again, chasing whisps. A lead about abandoned caches, belonging to some recently dissolved pack filled Nails Eyjolfur head with rapt interest. Easy food, it seemed. Nails liked whatever was easy. While his siblings surged ahead, Nails stayed behind, believing he could milk more from the southlands before joining the party in the north. He found the old borders easily enough in a small wood -- the stale scent of urine had not yet faded away. Empty, so far as to be absent of birdsong, there were mysteries abound. Yet, they concerned Nails not. He sought only what they left behind.

Nothing. Not a scrap remined. The caches lay barren, upturned by predators faster than he. He was too late and he lead turned up only frustration. Anger mounting, Nails pushed north and left the ruin behind him. His siblings left no trail to follow, yet he knew the path they forged. Days passed without a sign of them. Perhaps this time, he'd lost them for good. Monotony ensued.

Fog rose from the water. He'd stopped to rest in the wetlands where nary a dry place remained. The water was cold and clear, and Nails did drink.