Hoshor Plains you're angry as hell, you're ready to fight

Watching the hunts had been interesting for five whole minutes. There was too much going on, and from too far away, and so Salaksartok became distracted by a sibling, or a passing adult, or a smell, or the taste of dirt in this particular section of the plains, or something else equally mundane to everyone except the very young and very stupid. Eventually he'd been shepherded to the Moonglow camp, and the whole cycle repeated again.

There was a women's circle called, and he took some time to watch the many ladies emerge from every direction to meet up with his grandmother. He wanted to go too! Why wasn't he invited? Well, he tried a few times, but inevitably someone was there to grab him by the scruff and put him back in his place. It was a fun game for a while; but then he'd fallen asleep, and woken to someone at the edge of camp.

This someone wasn't someone he knew, which earned some interest from Salaksartok. It was the layering of smells that really caught his attention though! There was meat, and bone, and the hide-scent he came to associate with toys. All of it was suddenly there before him, laid out for him to choose from!

Woahhhh, the boy exclaimed in a drawl, at first exuberant and then promptly quiet (think, stage-whisper) so that nobody else would know about this level of treasure. He wanted it all for himself! His first thought was to pounce upon the pair of hocks, but no sooner had he scored them with his teeth did Salaksartok rebound for the liver pieces—snuffling over them, and inhaling them—and then he was bulldozing through the rest, wanting to touch or taste everything!