@Aponi
He liked where Oak Tree Bend was. Lark had already claimed a spot for himself. Sort of, anyways. It was where he spent most of his time, as he couldn't really find it in himself to find a proper den to sleep in. Sahalie seemed to be with Spieden, who he wasn't entirely interested in getting to know, and everyone else might as well had been a stranger to him. He shouldn't expect anything more, but he felt in limbo. He wanted more out of the pack, but felt some sort of... block, he guessed. He was just passing through, anyhow, and if he kept himself at a good distance, he wouldn't feel so bad when he left. He had to go north, stick to his plan.
There wasn't much to do, not when he was supposed to rest. But he was anxious, and often nauseous, and couldn't seem to keep anything down for very long. At first he'd thought it was because he ate too much too quickly, but after attempting a few small meals, he'd found that it wasn't the case. Laying around doing nothing didn't help his wandering mind, and although Larkspur could keep his mind off of things by chewing on a bone, but today he hadn't been so lucky. Not a good bone, or an antler, or even a decent hoof to chew on.
He tried to chew through a rabbit's leg or two, but found that didn't make him feel particularly good, so settled on the next best thing: sticks. Sticks were not satisfying, and he couldn't chew on them for hours, but it was better than nothing. He'd found a few that he'd thought would be alright to chew on, most he'd hoped were sturdy enough to last him an hour or so. After gathering them (it wasn't so hard, the Spectral Woods seemed to be filled with okay-looking sticks), Lark plopped himself down in the sunny section of his spot. It was close to the water, but not too close, and half-under a tree, but also half-not.
With his mess of sticks, he picked the toughest looking one, cracking it in half with barely any effort at all. His second wasn't so bad, though he was much gentler with it than he would have been with an antler. He chewed at bark and spat it out, not finding the stick-chewing to be quite as entertaining as bone-chewing. Bone sometimes had bits of meat on it, and this... this just had bugs and dirt. Larkin felt the first few droplets of water on his forehead, signifying the beginning of a light rain. Crack! tore the large stick he'd attempted to keep whole. It can only get worse, he irritably thought.
That wasn't how he'd been raised to think, but rarely did days like this get steadily better for him.