Pleads and Postcards
#6
ooc: ....my bad. Scratch previous thoughts, lol.

"Nay, Ah've no' 'ad a bite ta eat en a whail." A hunt? Moose was overjoyed. His wanderings had gained him a chance to demonstrate his skill, bond with a pack member, and fill his belly. As if on cue, it rumbled noisily. A smile gracing his face, he chuckled. "Mah belleh seems ta thin' 'twould beh a great idea if'n yeh'd join us fer a 'unt."

He was interested to see just what sort of game could be rounded up at this late hour in this new territory. From his time on his own, the majority of his hunted (rather than stolen) diet consisted of rabbits, birds, and fish. He was incredibly tired of fish. Having to fight twenty-million bones for a scrap of meat no more than a bird's wing wasn't his style. Moose was more accustomed to the larger game of his home; elk, reindeer, mountain goat, and of course, his namesake: moose.

His mouth began to fill with the thoughts of meat, and his muscles twitched with eagerness at the thrill of the hunt. The combination gave his a slightly anxious air, but he wasn't in any hurry; he could be as patient as the next wolf when it came to hunting. He just really enjoyed the entire event.


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