He prowled among the creek, his shoulders tense, and his ears pressed against his skull. His blond tail twitching just at his hocks he would stop once, and awhile putting his nose to the sway of the breeze. Brown nostrils flaring he'd taste the air, hoping to catch some sign of any other beast. When nothing came, he continued, his golden green tinged eyes drifting along the easy flowing creek. He wasn't sure what he was really looking for. His life had planned for him, and he had never been use to making his own decisions. Over time being a loner he had grown to like his free agency. Most times he was happy to be without responsibility for anyone but he. The days were so long, seeming endless, dragging onto into the other until they seemed the same. This was what was bothering him. He needed reals structure, and a point to his life. Right now there seemed none.

"Humphh," he grumbled to no one but himself. He was a warrior, not a wanderlust fool. He was craving something of the familiar. He pressed the issue aside. Right now he wanted a drink. He lowered himself along the banks, watching his step against the rough snow, knowing some of it might be straight over water. The last thing he needed to do was catch some kind of cold. Once he got the sense where was creek, and land his nose pointed down upstream. There he spotted a beaver dam's not to far. Squinted eyes he studied the sturdy structure, wondering where the little balls of fur might be. Large, blond paws pushed into the slush just at the creek's edge, and he slurped up a good long drink. Once done, he let the water dribble from his chin before shaking it off. He strolled closer to the beaver's dam, just observing to see if he might spot one.

He didn't care for her company, and had hoped she would run off. She had to be waiting for a free meal, either for him to share or to steal his food all together. The thought made his fur bristle around head, and atop his skull. He had no intention to hunt something, and let her have any piece of it. He had no will, nor need to share. He continued strolling through the creek, keeping an ear turned in her direction. This was why he hated lone life so much. Everything was a fight, and struggle to survive. He was tired of surviving he wanted to live. He paused peering deep into the nearby willows, and tall faded grass that rose out of the snow. He could detect the comings, and goings of the beaver there, and saw there tramped down trail. His blond ears pinned to his head, he was not sure if he could fit back through there. The willows were tightly wove, and bending toward each other as if to embrace. An irritated snort, he climbed onto the banks, and continued wandering looking for an opening.

He saw where some willows had been cut away, and he worked his way there. He picked up a fresh scent, and followed. Sometimes he was caught up in the willow, getting a scratch to his hide, or leaning away from a branch not to catch his eye. It was there he spotted not a beaver, but a hen. It beat it's wings trying to take off, but it could not fly. A coy grin, he watched the defenseless creature try to get away, but he overpowered it with little work. It was pathetic to kill it, but he was doing it a favor and putting it out of it's misery. Swiftly as it attempted to hop away he knocked it down with his paw, pinning it to the ground, and clamped his jaws around it's neck. It went with a final squawk, and he gingerly picked it up. He made no attempt to go back to the creek. The female was on the other side somewhere, and he would just dare her to attempt to get him, or his kill.