Heron Lake Plateau theodore rex

He had been out and about, checking on caches as he usually did in the afternoon, when he came across a rabbit that was already dead. It had not been stored, and he did not think it had been killed by a wolf. There was no blood around it, nor signs of saliva clinging to its fur. The Redhawk stood over it, studying it more closely and wondering if it had possibly died of old age.

Moving his muzzle to hover just above the rabbit, he sought out any signs his nose might give him, his breath making a tiny swirl of mist over the dead rabbit's body.