Overture Downs We operate under

"Those trained adults need feeding too. Moreso than children," Sarah remarked. She had done some big hunts in her life, but her survival had heavily relied on the small game. Mice, rats, lemings, frogs, snakes, rabbits, hares, occasional muskrats, minks and beavers. She had tasted porcupine once, but there were far more risks associated to hunting those quilled beasts than there was an actual good in them. When famine had been at it's worst, she had hunted other canines, though they tasted far less satisfying than rodents. 

"You cannot expect skilled adults not to disperse during extreme famine. If there is no moose to hunt, there is no use in numbers," she elaborated on her reasoning. "Small game is more reliable and less dangerous to acquire. You do not waste as much energy, you have no risk of getting injured and won't die," deer kicks were no small feats, and one well-aimed hoof against the right spot on the skull could send even an experienced hunter to meet it's forefathers in the heaven.

"Even big packs with all those skilled adults don't eat moose every day, week or even month. They might not see any at all," again a reference to her own family. There had been many young and inexperienced wolves among them and the small game got them by. "Besides - what do you have to offer in return?" she asked. Out of curiousity, because the conversation had hit a subject to which she could contribute from her own experience.