Vaken yawned deeply, laying comfortably beneath one of the many trees. He looked happy, but a little tired. His fur was tangled and his legs were sprawled out on the forest floor. He looked oddly content in his placement. His mouth hung open while he panted, enjoying the warm weather. He had been hoping to find more wildlife here, find some food. His hunting endeavours had been only mildly successful, and it was showing on his body. His bones weren’t jutting out, but the outline of them was there. Only where his fur was the longest did he look well-fed and plump, and that was only an illusion. Already small in stature, his failed hunting missions made him look even more thin and frail. He grunted softly, wondering if he should try to hunt again before dusk.
He wasn’t starving, just mildly hungry. He had found an old rabbit carcass a few miles away, and the proof was there. Dried blood stuck on the fur beneath his mouth and along his throat. It made him look a little more intimidating. He lapped at it with his tongue desperately trying to taste the remnants. All he could taste was dirt, but it didn’t stop him. He wanted to taste fresh meat. Picking at leftover bones and fur was unsatisfying and truthfully disheartening. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, deep in thought. The smells were overwhelming, hard to differentiate. He was vaguely worried about some scents: fresh wolf, coyote, other predators? He sighed. It was too late to leave the area. Who knows what he’d be walking into. He felt it was safest here, despite how strong the possibilities were of danger. He would sleep the night away under the tree.
He pressed his head between his paws in denial, completely relaxing. He was staying put. If he needed to, he could out run whatever was coming his way, hopefully. Maybe he’d only take a short nap and move out at night somewhere where the smell of wolf and coyote wasn’t so strong.