Moonspear titles are hard ok

He responded that he was, and seemed to seek to clean his mouth with the snow near to him. Hydra observed as he did so, though he did not make a move to eat again. He offered instead to cache whatever remained of it, and she nodded. Catching his look, the Ostrega shook her head; she herself had found another stray coyote, thin though it had been, lurking near their borders and had sated herself on that. Gangly though the thing had been, she did not know hunger the way in which Tye did. 

She wished he could eat, but it seemed he had not the stomach for it. Hydra, finished with the cleaning of one leg, drawled: be sure to eat slower next time. Eat too much too soon and that will surely happen again, came her advisement. She hated to see anything wasted though; Hydra moved toward his sick and lapped at it. Best she do this so that no scavenger would be tempted to act and find the rest. Such a thing was natural, though it did not do much to fill her stomach it took away the edge of hunger that might have come otherwise. 

Finished with her own work there, she cleansed her palette similar to the way he had before withdrawing. I intend to scout the upper reaches later for larger game; would you care to join me? She invited; though they could sometimes be elusive, this time of year she recalled with great clarity the sound of horn against horn when the rams courted and tested their rivals. From it typically came a meal when one young, headstrong creature fought against the might of their strongest elder; it yielded injury. And sometimes it yielded an immediate supper, though their bounty was typically quick to find their footing upon the shale—quicker than any other species she had ever seen.