Hard days made me

He'd been alone for such a long time now. One day he was with his fathers, and next thing he knew...they were gone. His sister had seemingly vanished, and last he remembered, her trail had been mixed with someone else and his parents frantic. But then everything was silent, and he had been left alone in the southern plains. He had waited and waited, but the hungrier he got, the more he couldn't wait. He couldn't hunt, hadn't been taught, so he barely got by with scraps he had found or managed to steal from others he came across. Almost none of it came without repercussions, however. He had been caught a few times, and this last time he had been left with a nasty bite to his leg. He limped northward, his right foreleg practically hugging his chest as he hobbled along. It made travel hard, and it made it even harder for him to take food, so he had to often wait until there were scraps left behind, if any.

He was almost a year old now, next season he would turn his first year, but damn what a shitty puphood he had endured. He felt numb almost, from the sudden abandonment. But he supposed this was his life now. He had traveled long hours of the night. It was easier for him to keep out of sight of those who might try to hurt him or chase him down because of his most recent injuries, and now he was thirsty. He had strayed up towards the waterfalls peak, hoping that there would be less population this way so that he could try to recover. He was tired though, so very tired from trying to hobble his way up, that he decided he couldn't do it anymore. The boy dropped to the ground, body huddled in the snow as he rested his head against the cold ground. He sniffed, shivering slightly as he tried to rest. Maybe...he'd try again in a little while.