Larksong Grotto nagrulik-atuun

this cave was the worst idea ever. somewhere off in the back, thinking he was still alone, he found he couldn't withold the gag that had been a hard lump impossible to swallow.
he retched—once, then twice, all dry.
in spite of this, he still felt hunger gnawing with either roll of his empty stomach. lakhos didn't care for winter at all; the novelty had worn off real quick and far from painless. a bullet to the brain would have been more forgiving than the grotto's rotten respite.
he spun as though to leave, but the footfalls left him frozen. or maybe it was the frostbite he thought was setting in—did that matter? how high was that one the priority list? probably not high enough.
hackles raised, his ears slid back as he sought immediate cover where he thought he could. this was probably a damn bear's leftover den.