good enough

Citadel didn’t fully appreciate how much the pack stores complimented his own hunting. He was a passable hunter, but he didn’t always catch his prey. Now, on the days he failed to bring something down, he went hungry. He was hungry now, and he was trying to ignore the growling in his stomach as he stalked along the snowy territory. Looking for trails and scents.

He came upon an unexpected scene as he moved through the territory. Another wolf, a hunter perhaps who was far better equipped than Citadel. Older, too. Citadel hadn’t reached trap making in his lessons, and there was something stirring in him these days. Usually, he wasn’t unpleasant to strangers. But now the desire to be surly sat in his gut. He took a breath and pushed it down, and that in itself was a lesson he needed to learn. “Hello, are you crafting traps? If you have the time to show me what you're doing, I can trade…’ he thought of his measly possessions with a frown. “...A coat…” it was all he really had to trade. He’d packed light on his way out the door. His stomach growled.

"Citadel Fatalis"