They days had started to blend together ever since Moss had left his old pack and made his way to 'Souls, even more so since he got here. It was lonely with your only form of company being a spirit who seemed to cause you more pain than pleasure. Never the less he was Moss's one and only true friend, there for him through during the toughest days of his life and for that, Moss never complained, not even one peep about the kindred spirit. Now, things were starting to digress for the red wolf. He had been neglecting his need to eat forgetting completely about food and the maintenance of his coat and hair. He looked like a beggar. His form was thin, ribs slightly visible from under his coat. His dark hair was beginning to mat. He would probably have to chop it all off if he wanted to look decent. The only piece of clothing he wore were a pair of old jeans, torn and shredded form excessive use.
Eilam had made it his one and only duty to bug Moss each and every day, every hour of the day, until he caught himself something to eat and so he was forced to hunt in this new land that he would be calling home. The wolf had with him a bow and arrow which he found to be the best method to killing an animal quickly and painlessly. Even though he was no longer part of the Shovuard family, he still followed their traditions and beliefs. One being, that every life was important and all lives should be treated equally whether it was a wolf or a rabbit.
Moss took his bow off where it hung across his back and pulled an arrow from his quiver placing it silently in the bow as he walked through the forest. His paws barely made a sound as he padded his way through the trees with an alert demeanor. His face shown how incredibly lazy he'd been feeling. He mused to himself how he'd rather being laying under a tree catching up on his sleep, which had been interrupted the last couple nights by Eilam and the stomach rumbles that seemed constant. With the bow raised and arrow ready to release, he narrowed his gaze to spot any movement. His nose wriggled slightly as he caught the scent of a rabbit. It wasn't long before the herbivore was in sight and his arrow was aimed at the creatures's tiny heart. The rusty colored wolf approached silently, soon within a few yards of the unknowing creature. He steadied his weapon and slowly pulled back the arrow. Once ready and sure he wouldn't miss, he released it but at the same time his finger loosened to let the arrow go his stomach also released the most atrocious roar it was capable of thus sending the rabbit darting off.
In one fluid motion, Moss turned, knocked another arrow, and released the arrow. A second later, the rabbit lay lifeless on the floor and Moss was taking a deep breath happy he didn't have to start his hunt from the beginning. After picking up his kill he settled himself down against a tree. "Thanks furry woodland creature. If you didn't die today, I would have starved and died tomorrow." Of course he was being drastic, but he was grateful for the rabbit. Large jaws parted and teeth sunk into the warm morsel. Blood began to stain his broad muzzle as he ate. He consumed it fast, not caring whether the blood got on his coat. He was hungrier than he had led himself to believe. A smile spread on his face as the tender flesh filled his gut. Eilam stood at a distance and simply smiled at him, his shadowy transparent figure obscured slightly by a small shrub.
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