Duck Lake fortitude

It became apparent that the actual hunt had been easy — it was consuming it that was the hard part. Reaper was all too ready to simply wolf down the meal, the scent of blood and fresh meat wafting into the air. He breathed it in with haggard breaths, his chest heaving from their efforts from moments ago. It was obvious the tiny rabbit was much too small for the both of them and, while they had found a family of the critters, the others had probably escaped by now while the beasts were distracted.

The dog noted the change of Warthog's bearing, her former victorious demeanour changing into something much darker. Hungrier. Reaper bowed his own head with a rumbling growl, his eyes meeting her own as she made to stand over the kill. Their camaraderie from moments before had all but disappeared into the air and, despite his hunger, the dog knew Warthog wouldn't think twice about tearing into his throat if he made for the meagre scrap of meat. Eyes flicking from it to the other dog's disfigured face, Reaper gave a snarl before turning on his heel and stalking off leaving Warthog with her meal — wisdom winning out over hunger, for now.