Redhawk Caldera do you suppose she's a wildflower?

Returning from yet another unsuccessful hunt, Elwood approached the densite with head and tail slung low. Over the last week and a half, he had spent hours each day combing the territory for any sort of food, hoping that the prey would magically replenish itself. But he was coming to accept that this was a serious issue that they would have to deal with; their caches were growing lean, as were their bodies. Each pack member was doing what he or she could to bring in resources from outside of the territory, but how long would that be feasible?

These thoughts tucked themselves into the back of his mind as he spotted Fiadh and Finley just outside of the den. Seeing his month-old daughter exploring the outside world reminded him of how quickly the puppies were growing, despite the food shortage. And they didn't seem to be perturbed; they continued to exist with the blissful ignorance of youth. Elwood smiled as he approached, kissing first Finley's cheek then the top of Fiadh's head.