Redhawk Caldera Acer

Shrike stretched, back arching and the morning sun creating a silver sheen across his back as he left his den early in the morning. He groaned slightly and shuddered lightly as his muscles were pulled taught, and then allowed to relax. The sun was weak still, and though he'd only been asleep in his den for the past four hours, he felt mildly refreshed by the morning's cool air and the sun's gentle glow. Licking his lips, he straightened himself up, preened his fur a bit to free it from the remnants of bedding, and struck out, meandering through the brush toward the rendezvous site. 

On his way he kept an eye on the sky, looking for birds. He knew there were no smaller meals to be found, though he'd landed a lucky kill the day before- a squirrel, and a starving one at that. Shrike's usually lean physique had begun to look thin, as it was wont to do- he'd never carried much in the way of excess weight, and so he hadn't had much to lose to begin with. His hips and shoulders rolled beneath a pelt and a layer of muscle still, but if the famine continued for much longer he was wel aware just how quickly he'd begin looking like a walking skeleton.

Dangling from his mouth was a tiny offering- the hind end of the squirrel he'd caught the day before. Its legs were lean from starvation, but at least it was something, and nothing better than that could he find. He found his way to the rendezvous site, where he knew the pups and alpha pair would have spent the night, and found himself a cozy spot beside a shrub to lay down as he waited for someone to show up. Reaching for a stick to chew to numb his own apetite, Shrike heaved a sigh and crunched on the stick, occasionally spitting out splinters as he waited.

The famine was starting to affect the bandit at last. The locusts had been a great deal of fun to him, and their dead bodies yet another source of entertainment later, but as the days went, the prevalence of hunger was starting to take its toll. He was lanky pup to begin with, but his look was made all the more angular now by the increasing jut of his shoulders and hips, and the arc of his rubs beneath thinning flesh. This was not fun anymore.

Ferret was rummaging through the brush, snapping up twigs and dead grasses and clods of dirt, anything that could fit in his mouth really. He was in a foul mood, and routinely swiped at and stomped at things along his path as he took out his frustration on the environment. The breeze brushed across his nose, and his head whipped around as if a fishing hook had caught one nostril and jerked his head as the angler flexed his rod.

The boy charged forward, thrashing and crashing noisily through the dry brush until he leaped out of the tangle and spotted Shrike, and— "Squirrel!" he barked, grinding to a halt. Eyes wide, he stared at the limp brown carcass, and it did not take long before saliva collected behind his fangs seeped out from his lips in a long strand of drool. Two things happened here: he was in awe that Shrike had caught the furry devil that so often mocked him from high in the trees, and he was desperately hungry; the scent of blood and the look of the dead squirrel had him pacing forward, transfixed.

He wasnèt terribly surprised to see the masked boy show up. He was a keen young fellow, with  a great deal of energy and life despite the current famine. As per usual, the boy anounced his presence by thrashing through the undergrowth and gracelessly skidding to a halt before exclaiming a single word- Squirrel. He knew the look of hunger in the young boy's eyes, and though his own stomach gave a groan at the thought of passing over the morsel, he knew it was in the pack's best interest to nurture their future members as much as possible during this tough time. He would outlast the boy if neither of them ate, and even with a scarce bit of food like this, the boy wouldn't have long to live if the herds didn't come back. 

He nodded in response and picked the small morsel up, rising to his feet but lowering his front end in a play bow. "Wannit?" He asked through gritted teeth, dangling the squirrel from his jaws and inviting the boy to come forward and have a little game of tug-o-war for the morsel. He didn't intend to put up too much of a fight- he didn't want to waste the boy's energy...But a little bit of play couldn't hurt either of them.

He stared, drooling, at the squirrel. His eyes did not drift to the gray features of his packmate, nor anything else, and as the squirrel dangled and shifted side to side, they moved with it. Only briefly did his gaze move to Shrike as Shrike asked if he wanted it. "Ahh... yup," he replied, his pink tongue swiping around his lips, collecting spit that he then swallowed after making some unnecessary noises.

His packmate tried to entice him to work for it, but if there was one thing the boy was becoming adept at, it was doing the opposite of whatever it was someone wanted him to do. So, he dropped his ass to the ground, tipped up his nose like a spoiled brat and demanded, "Gimme." Then he waited, pompously, for Shrike to obey.

Of course the pup wanted it- as measly and scraggly as it was, Shrike wanted to eat the rest of the squirrel- but he chose instead to give it to the pup- but he didn't really want to just give it to him. His spirits were fairly high, so he was somewhat disappointed when the pup demanded that the squirrel be given to him. The pup was, in response, given a quizzical look, as Shrike tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows, bearing a more concerned expression. The squirrel still dangled from his mouth as he spoke. 

"No? Dun wannit?" He asked, not willing to simply hand the squirrel over to the boy. Not everything in life would just be given to him. Had he asked politely, perhaps, Shrike would have taken pity on the child and handed it over. And though Shrike had absolutely no intention of actually eating the squirrel, he shrugged non-chalantly, and tilted his head back slightly, as though he was about to swallow the squirrel down. "Mkay. Mine den." He said, still keeping the squirrel's raggedy tail within the boy's reach.

That didn't work. Commanding apparently was not the way to get things, at least not with this particular specimen. Ferret narrowed his eyes and the twitched a single, sleek white ear. He schemed, but he schemed nothing new this time, and instead the thoughts in his head rolled around to a tactic that had worked before. He was no ankle biter, but he was, indeed, a toe biter.

Just as Shrike feigned that he would eat the squirrel himself, the brazen savage launched forward and aimed his sharp little teeth at the gray wolf's toes. His mother had clouted him for a similar strategy (a nose bite), but as he recalled it, he had gotten what he wanted by doing so. Biting toes had at least produced a show to entertain him with, maybe they could produce a squirrel too.

He'd expected his tactics to work, and the puppy lunged forward. Shrike expected the oddly marked pup to grab at the squirrel dangling from his teeth but instead the little bugger went right for Shrike's paws, biting down on his toes with needle-sharp teeth. He yelped in surprise and was reminded, oddly enough, of his grandfather whose toes had been chewed and mutilated to keep him from escaping when he'd been held as a hostage. True, Osprey's toes had been mangled by the teeth of an adult, but that went without saying that puppies had sharp teeth too, and Shrike leapt back in surprise. 

He nearly choked on the squirrel for a moment as he steadied himself, but before the pup could make a lunge again he lowered his head, the squirrel's tail dragging in the dirt, hoping that at least he could stop the pup with the solidness of his own brow, or distract him with the squirrel which was now easily within the pup's reach, and held with an easy grip.

Shrike leapt backward, and down came the squirrel. The boy's tail wiggled furiously with glee and the thrill of triumph. Even if the squirrel had not come down within reach, drawing such a reaction from the bigger wolf was its own prize, and he would could have left empty-jawed and been content, albeit still hungry. But he was not done. Ferret did not spare more than a moment's pause to gloat and grin. He lunged for the squirrel's dangling tail, latching on like a fuzzy piranha and giving his head a jerk as he attempted to wrest the prey from Shrike.

Well, in the very least, they'd both been successful. Shrike's actions had lured the boy away from his toes (thank goodness) and toward the squirrel onto which the boy latched, and Ferret had the prey within his reach now. Naturally, Shrike could've torn the squirrel from the pup's grasp with a quick flick of his head- or torn the squirrel in two between them, but he meant in the long run for the boy to win the squirrel from him. He'd had a bit of it earlier, and now he was taking the chance to bond with the pup and feed him at the same time. 

Ferret seemed very pleased with himself, so Shrike played into the game, furrowing his brow, laying his ears back and uttering a muffled and soft growl as he pulled back on the squirrel. He could tell the game wouldn't last long between the two of them- but even if the bedraggled thing did get torn in two, it still would've been a fun game. Ferret jerked at the squirrel which surprised Shrike and made him let go of a centimetre of the furry body- so in return, he shook his own muzzle in an attempt to shake the pup's grip.