the most beautiful bitter fruit

Lark was hungry.

Food wasn't particularly difficult for him to find at home, but he was in the mood for something different this time. Something larger. Lark Destruction's paws carried him away from lands familiar to him, north to a rather large thicket that he had yet to fully explore. Unlike the lands of Abaven, which were humid and moist from the river that flowed through, this place was much drier. His movements were careful as he weaved in and out of bushes, some taller than himself while others were tiny. The grasses were tall too, tickling his belly and causing the fur along his spine to stand slightly in alarm.

The scent of a pig had caught his attention. It was a perfect summer day; as perfect for hunting as it was for this pig to search for a meal as well. It wouldn't be difficult to find him, not at all. His nostrils flared as he arched his head to the ground, sniffing as he trailed after the scent. His tail twitched in excitement behind him as the yearling pushed on through the thicket, taking in the sights of this new land with interest.

(Anyone is welcome! Lark would love a hunting partner, whether of Abaven or not!)