The small boy continued to chew on the bones of his last kill. The marrow was mostly sucked out now, but he continued to grind it against his teeth desperately. He wasn’t starving, but it felt good to chew something. Even though it wasn’t filling his belly, it was giving him the satisfaction of almost eating something.

He snapped one of the small rabbit bones between his canines, angrily spitting it out. The slivers of it poked his tongue, making the yearling whimper then growl. He grabbed another bone- this one belonging to the spine, and began to mindlessly gnaw. It was hot- too hot to find something else to eat. It was making him irritable and more touchy than usual. 


He didn’t want to hunt again until the sunset. The bones were going to have to keep him preoccupied for a few hours at least. Running his tongue along the side of the spinal cord he preyed the coyotes weren’t going to interrupt his snack.

This wolf was larger than Vaken, but very similar build. In a lot of ways, she seemed smaller than him. The way she moved was skittish, frail. Her legs were long, much like his- but she moved differently. Her steps were soft, but not sneaky. Vaken watched carefully as she made her way towards him, watching the way she moved. She had a very gentle energy to her. The male returned his attention back to his pile of bones, faking disinterest.

Was she just going to stand there all day? “I’m not going to attack you,” he called out, his eyes still focused on his bones. He had no intention of attacking someone so defenceless without reason. She was clearly scared enough as it was.

Smell that? The yearling scoffed. Certainly if there was something to smell, he would have. He had been laying here all morning, minding his own buisness. There weren’t any coyotes. There wasn’t anything to smell. Bitterly taking a big inhale through his nose, the yearling glanced around in confusion. “Hmm.” He wanted to curse himself, anger bubbling in his chest. How the hell did he miss the smell of meat? 


Was it a trap? Rising to his feet, the yearling stomped towards the other female. “The coyotes must have left it. They might come back for it.” He didn’t care though, he was too hungry to play it safe. Following his nose, he tried to follow the breeze.

Vaken dove into the meal without an ounce of politeness. He did not beckon her to join him with his muzzle, or even thank her for letting him eat first. It wasn’t because he craved the dominance of the act. It was because he had no respect for social etiquette. He valued his own desire much more than he craved the satisfaction of manners. It was a dog eat dog world out here. If she hadn’t learned that yet, Vaken had no sympathy.

Watching her from the corner of his eyes while he filled his empty stomach, the young wolf wondered why she wasn’t eating as well. Was it fear of being hurt, or was she just genuinely that polite? Sniffing the air, he wondered if she was a pack wolf. She certainly acted like it. Scoffing, he couldn’t smell any other wolves on her pelt. What was she doing? “Are you always this passive?”

“Your kindness is going to kill you,” he observed between mouthfuls of food. He was gorging, blood from the kill dripping off his chin. “Say I ate it all, then what? Say the coyotes come before I am done eating and take their kill back- what would you do?” It was a cold, dry, rhetorical question. He tore his gaze from her and continued to dig his teeth into the meaty flesh. He thought she was idiotic and dumb. 


In his mind, she was going to starve if she couldn’t learn to feed herself above others. As a lone wolf, there was no other way. He swallowed down a piece of fatty tissue, salivating over the carcass like a rabid animal. He was not offering advice because he cared much about her wellbeing, if she didn’t want to eat he wouldn’t ask her to. He wasn’t going to give her a special invite.