Little Goat Mountain gänseblümchen

mahler had left paleo beneath the guise of a hunt, but truly it was to make the realization that he had grown too old for a proper chase.
the goats were too fleet, the rabbits too spry. fishing was not something he had ever done well, and small game alone could not feed their pack.
he looked toward tikal, but knew that both his pride and that of wylla would not allow the asking of help.
and so mahler climbed on, ignoring the stitch in his side.