The Heartwood No one seems to keep

Large muscled body lay in repose. Blunt paws holding tight to the small white bone, that he worried between teeth and jaw. The cracking and creaking, loud in the silence of the heartwood. He kept a weather eye on the corners. Reposed in such a way that he could see all sides, back to a large rock.

Red eyes ever so often would flick from the rapidly breaking bone to dance along the barren trees and sooty ground. The flakes of dead wood and leaves, felt gritty, but soft against his fur. He didn't mind it .It left white marks in his brown hide. A hide riddled with scars, but kept nicely. A glossy sheen to it's angles.

Another loud crack and he found the marrow. A deep curl of delight lifted from his throat as he chewed and snapped and licked at the marrow of the bone. A deep rumble in his chest.