Chimera Fields isn't it bad, so quiet there, in the wood?

backdated to the 7th, right on the edge of the field bordering neverwinter

in his grief, he'd managed to defer the journey back home for a little bit; he needed to rest after his emotional outburst in front of ibis and okeanos the other day. besides, he liked the newness of this forest—it smelled quite fresh and was more shady than elysium. it was a change he welcomed, for the status quo had become mundane at best, nightmarish at its very worst.

but he missed the minnows. cam was starving. the caches he found were fairly stocked but they were full of rabbits and squirrels and larger chunks of meat he couldn't identify. . .and he couldn't stomach any of it. he wanted fish—cool, impersonal fish. all of the other items on the menu were friends, and friends didn't eat friends.

but his stomach growled as he sat in the field near the treeline, staring despondently down at a dead hare. not long dead; it was still warm, and cam swore he felt a faint stirring in its muscles, a last grasp at life. but its heart was silent, its eyes still and glassy. it was dead, and the boy was very hungry. 

why? why did he have to do it? just like mummy, the hare had ceased to be, and he couldn't fathom the thought of someone coming along and eating her.

what if her babies were out there looking for her, just as he sought lily in every shadow?

why couldn't he just find some fish instead?

why? why? why?!

frustrated beyond measure, cam retched and scrunched up his slender face, angrily sobbing as he fought both pangs of hunger and of loss.