[AW] I won't give up (hunting thread)
(Ooc: set in Dawn's Breath)

The mountain trek had not been kind on the male. He had gone out for walks and runs and had hunted with Richter before in Astra, but never had he gone so far alone or traveled such a length. Expending his calories on travel had forced him to have to calculate even more than usual; if he ate a certain type or amount of food, he could travel a certain distance before that horrible, wrenching, empty-belly feeling overtook him again. In his home pack he had been a prince, and the life of a pauper was having its effects. He had lost a lost of weight, becoming gaunt and wiry. Fishing had become his main source of food As he traveled, but as he went on he had realized that the seasons were changing and that the nice flowing streams of Astra would be naught but a memory now. It wasn't easy any more and he had to keep moving, keep warm, travel, and eat. A harsh realization had began to set in on him, as well as some regret over not leaving Astra earlier in the season. He had to find other canines or somewhere to live where he could find what he would need to survive the winter.

Kilo looked out over the mountainside as he debated where he should go next. Another loner named Jack had told him that there was a city nearby, which sounded more promising to him than trees and boulders and bear-filled caves. He had been told to travel over the mountain and not around it. When he'd awoken by the campfire Jack had made for the pair of them and had found the loner gone, though, he'd not been surprised. Friendship amongst thieves was a concept he was beginning to learn. All of his items had been sorted through, the most valuable taken. So now the tradeless, packless wolf was trying to find his way toward anything resembling a home. One of the few things Jack hadn't stolen was some of the salve that had been used often in Astra. It was coming into use now, as dehydration had been causing the ill-equipped Kilo chapped and cracking paw pads on his feet. As old as Naniko had been, she had been able to pass a lot of her healing remedies on to her progeny, as well as basic herbal know-how. In her age the grandmother had been surprisingly kind to Kilo, though she had often confused him for Octavius. 

Kilo sighed and looked out over the territory, his free, annoying mane getting in his face as the wind blew it to and fro. Jack had stolen all of his leather ties, the ones he used to keep his long mane neat and braided back. More important was his stomach, though. He needed to hunt badly, but how would he ever be able to bag something big enough by himself?

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