Deepwood Weald i kissed a frog at midnight so he sang me a lullaby

@Marruz

He had been on the trail of some unfortunate coyote for nearly half a mile now, steadily gaining ground on the prey until it slipped through a stream and evaded what would have likely been death. A sigh slipped through leathery lips as he lowered himself to the creek's edge, quickly lapping up the harsh winter water as it crashed against the tiny rapids. Once his thirst was quenched he pulled away and positioned himself so that his good eye could groom through the grove, watching intently as the snow drifted down from the canopy above.

He supposed after a quick rest he could try his luck again at securing himself a meal that could hold him over for a few days, for the constant roaming was proving to be more of a burden than he imaged. He could no longer spring back up from a failed hunt to try again and the time it took for him to catch his breath seemed to increase with each chase he gave. He was by no means old but Sanguinus was certainly beginning to feeling the luxuries of middle age.