Redhawk Caldera Certified beautician.

It had gotten too hard to find anything, so Dingo did what he did best, and quit. He left the waterfront and wandered back towards the mountainous landscape where he'd been given a home - sort of - and slipped back across the border with a deep sigh. How could he be seen as worthwhile if he couldn't even find a single god damn fish? The world had gone made in the wake of the locust disaster, and all Dingo could think about was his own stomach and survival. If he didn't repay what he'd taken then surely they'd kick him out. He was an extra mouth and a loud one at that.

Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Wolves didn't need just meat for their survival. They needed herbs sometimes, holes dug, dens curated, all kinds of odds'n'ends which he could do to prove himself. So what if he didn't have anything new to deposit in a cache — he was able bodied still! Hungry, but willing to work (well, to a point). His mood was still quite sour and his belly was still very empty, but Dingo wasn't about to be beaten by fate. He headed off along a nearby rigdge and climbed towards the caldera's heartland, eager to discover what secrets the territory held, and hopeful he'd find something valuable for the lot of them.