Moonspear the cold and the bare grasped

The herds, or lack thereof, were not the only worry either. With no big game and the pups coming of age during the winter, they would surely miss out on a big milestone in their development — their first pack hunt. No doubt they had already been taught the basics, but putting theory into practice was where they would really learn. They couldn't exactly hone their skills as a team on starved squirrels during the winter (as entertaining as that might be to see).

Lyra mirrored Dirge's sigh as he spoke, his words only confirming her suspicions. It seemed this famine was here to stay for the foreseeable future. If things went from bad to worse, they could of course always leave, but the very thought made Lyra shudder. She would rather die upon Moonspear than desert the place her parents had worked so hard to build an empire upon; an empire Hydra and Dirge would only expand. No, Moonspear would survive this winter by whatever means necessary, and they would emerge all the stronger for it.

"Luck will only get us so far," she replied softly. What he said was true, but they as a pack needed to be smarter now with how they stored food, how they hunted...and with who they decided to let in among their ranks especially. Her mind briefly flit to the lightning-touched woman, Andraste, as a small frown knit across her brow. "We can't let anyone take advantage of our generosity anymore," she said, turning to Dirge with sudden seriousness. She didn't blame Hydra nor him for accepting such freeloaders, but she made it clear in her gaze that she would not tolerate it happening again while they were in the grips of winter.