It was with shame that Duck shuffled over to the cache, feeling as though his limbs were creaking from the cold, and rooted around for something small that nobody would miss. He knew that this was what it was for, for when the pack was hungry, and damn he was hungry, but they were all so nice to him and he actually wanted to be productive! He wanted to be better because of friendliness rather than hostility, what was this madness. But it was true.
Plucking a half-eaten, half-frozen hare from underneath a fresher morsel, he pulled it into the den, shivering, and hunkered down to eat it with guilt.