The Old Dirt Road Was Paved

There was no shortage of work that needed to be done now that winter was here and the volcano was wreaking havoc on the mainland. Brandr was able to move some of the food stores but he worried that it might not be enough. They'd need to rely on some of the islands resources. Fish was the main food source but there were two issues. One being the festival had likely caused the rivers and lakes to have been overfished and prey would be harder to find. Two being that with the temperatures dropping rapidly many of the lakes were starting to freeze and if he were completely honest with himself, he was getting a bit tired of fish.

Brandr set is nose to the ground and tested the air for scents of prey. The one good thing about the islands is that the prey that lived her was unlikely to have gone anywhere so he wouldn't need to track fleeing herds like he had on the mainland. He knew there were rabbits and a number of small prey on the island and while he hoped there might be some larger prey he hadn't found any evidence of them, not yet at least. The islands were large enough that perhaps they could support a small population of deer but with the amount of mouths he had to feed he wondered if the wolves might end up wiping them out.

He shook his head, too many suppositions. He needed to focus on what he could find and that was small prey. The clouds were growing darker in the sky again and Brandr shivered lightly. It was colder now than most previous winters and he knew it would only get worse. He froze as a mild tremor shivered through the earth and he swore. That was likely to send the animals skittering to their dens and making his job harder. Ash coated the sky creating a dull haze and as a rumble shook through the sky sleet began to fall. Brandr shook his head and moved under a tree for the time being as he debated whether or not to keep hunting. He decided that he'd come this far so he may as well get something to bring home.

Brandr slipped out from under the cover of the tree and continued his search for prey. Part of him wondered if it would be worth the risk to try the mainland and bring something back but the idea was quickly abandoned. Prey had likely scattered from those areas and they weren't that desperate yet. He found a creek that was still flowing and he began to follow along side it. Animals everywhere would need fresh water to drink and this was as good a place as any to start hunting or at least see if he could pick up some trails to follow. Hours seemed to drag by as he searched and the sleet finally lifted. He was freezing and just about ready to give up when he spied a tall and strange looking bird in the distance, on the edge of the creek where it seemed to have overflowed its banks. It looked to be a heron. He quickly ducked down, settling on his belly to watch the bird. He was surprised it hadn't migrated but then the Ibis Islands were much more tropical than other areas. Brandr flinched as he realized that the prey were going to have a hard time adjusting to the cooler temperatures as well. This situation just seemed to keep getting worse and worse. Still, he had to do what he could to feed his pack.

Brandr slunk forward as carefully as he could, pausing often as the bird lifted its head to gaze about. This was prey that would need patience to catch. A heron could take to the sky and get easily out of the way of his fangs so there was no point trying to run it down like land-dwelling prey. Brandr's legs coiled beneath him as he settled in to wait. More time seemed to drift by and he tried not to shiver. His ears were starting to hurt in the cold air and he pinned them to his head to try and keep them warm. The heron's head dove down into the water and it came up with a fish. This is the moment that Brandr pounced, hoping he could get a drop on the bird while it was distracted with its own prey. He sprang forward and the heron dropped the fish as its large wings unfurled and it tried to lift itself into the air. Brandr sprang, his jaws seizing the bird around the neck. The pair crashed into the muddy, slush-covered ground and a struggle ensued until Brandr's stronger frame managed to break the bird's neck.

Satisfied he took a few moments to catch his breath. He was pleased to have caught something but it was a lot of work and not a lot to show for it, however he supposed that would be the new norm especially on an island populated by small prey. Securing the heron in his jaws he started the journey back toward the place where Abaven had settled for the time being. They'd need to work out a plan. He wasn't sure if he should add the bird to the kill pile or feed his family. Brandr opted for the later. It'd been awhile since they'd eaten and the bird was barely enough for three wolves anyway.