After midnight/very early morning, broken clouds, 19F/-7C
Khalon was still up to his old tricks of “running away”, though he only ever lasted a night or two before he wound up back in the Backwater. It was an easy meal, and the den was a lot warmer than being alone now that the nights were dipping into the negatives. Tonight he was on another vagrant trip and had hunkered down in one of his favourite spots, an old abandoned pack den. That meant it was mostly protected from the wind outside that was making such an awful creepy sound.
Howling through the trees, branches creaking and crashing together, and generally just being a little unsettling. The yearling was mostly ignoring it, trying to settle down and sleep, though it was causing him to be restless. Rolling over once more, he groaned in frustration that dreams continued to evade him. He had barely gotten a wink all night and he was beginning to feel cranky about it. Tomorrow he would go back home, fill his belly, and sleep the day away for as long as he could before some adult came and made a pointed remark about a task that needed doing.
At least out here there were no chores to be done.