Lacey’s stomach let out an audible growl.
How long had she been lost for now? She’d lost track of the days, and was lamenting her situation. She was hungry and cold, something she’d never experienced before—at least, never for an extended period of time—and it absolutely sucked.
She grumbled as her stomach loosed another audible gurgle, as if chiding it for making so much noise. Lacey had tried to catch food, and succeeded a couple of times. In those moments, she’d been proud of herself, and rightfully so. There she was, on her own, providing for herself; surviving! But there were lulls between those times of success where she couldn’t twist and turn fast enough to follow a darting hare, or dig quick enough to pull out a rodent scurrying into its burrow. It was in those moments, where her pride flew out the window, that she remembered exactly how she got here.
Chasing a black and white critter. The spray. The hissing. The running. The smell.
Lacey frowned—pouted, really—as she shook her head. Whatever that damned thing was, she’d be avoiding it and its kind for the rest of her life, lest she experience another stinky surprise. She couldn’t think of anything worse than running into another one of them.
Well, maybe running into two of them, but that was beside the point.
Laid out on her belly, toes skimming the water, the young Rigel let out a long, deep sigh, scowling the whole while. Just a short rest before she got back to walking. Yeah, that’s all she needed—a small breather, a moment to rest her aching, throbbing paws. Then she’d be up and ready to go again, to try to fill her belly, and maybe not keep wandering in what felt like constant circles.