The dead hare swung limp in Vaken’s grasp, hanging from his mouth like a pendulum. Blood stained the black fur beneath is jaw, dripping down his throat and onto the floor. He was incredibly hungry, but the impending threat of coyotes made him quick to move and hide his kill. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that he wanted to store it security overnight. He’d eat what he wanted first, and cache the rest.
It was getting late. He was tired from his long day of travelling. His legs were sore, his body ached, and his belly was starting to grumble. Moving at night was usually the best option for the small male, since the heat took it out of him, but tonight he was more lethargic than usual. He finally stopped walking, hidden beneath a tree, and dropped the kill with a soft thud. Taking a quick bite, the young wolf slowly positioned himself in the dirt. He curled up in a ball, the meal beneath his front paws, and let himself relax. It was a cooler night, the breeze a little chillier than usual.
It was still painfully dry in the forest. The heat was sucking the life out of everything, including the lone wolf. Plants were beginning to shrivel, prey was sticking close to the water, it was horrific. Tonight felt okay for Vaken. He leaned into the breeze, closing his eyes, and let out a deep sigh of gratitude.