A Drizzle of Home

16 | A Drizzle of Burden

"Nice one, Dribble."

I glared at the dark-furred pup, standing by the trunk of a pine with several forms of tawny prey at his paws of coal. Then there was my own catch: a big fat pile of nothing.

A sharp pain dug into my side. I picked myself up off the ground, wincing as the thorny branches tugged at my tangled fur, tufts of gray still hanging on their boughs after I pulled away. I shook the rest of the thistles from my pelt, muttering my annoyance to the sky as I stared at a knotted mess I'd be gnawing out later. My fur had just fully grown back from all the scrapes and scars I'd arrived with.

"Back so soon?" The sarcasm dripped from my jowls, just like the saliva forming on my tongue each time I glanced over at his cache of food.

Why had Mist paired us together if he was just going to go off and hunt on his own? At first I'd been thankful––that I wouldn't be burdening Cloud, and I ignorantly assumed my time with Spruce would be awkward and silent.

Awkward? Yes. Silent? I wished.

I ignored his grumbles in favor of the woods. The evergreens were sparser on this side of the forest, downriver from the cave and approaching the vast, open meadow. Where my real hunt would soon happen.

Plenty of trees still filled the space around us, offering shelter to more opportunities to prove I could catch something on my own. To myself, and to the bratty pup.

"You can leave. I'm not done yet." I turned my back to Spruce and strode a couple limping steps further into the greenery. It would help if I could hear something other than his snorting laughter.

I tipped my muzzle upward and breathed in the scents the wind had to offer. Bittersweet like the pines, as always, but it had started to grow on me. Among the sour, leafy weeds and spring's sweet blossoms, I pulled out the distinct smell of something edible. Just a mouse, but it would do. I pointed my ears in its direction and hobbled onward.

My steps were stiff and jerky after wasting all my energy keeping up with Spruce––only for him to dump me and go off on his own––and also the many fruitless chases I'd already pursued.

I tried my best to be quiet, creeping closer to the sound of the rodent's small and erratic heartbeat. I couldn't see him yet, but he was hiding beneath the cover of some tall grass, munching away without a care. It's pulse quickened, pounding within its tiny chest. The green stalks parted at the mouse's rounded body, and it darted away, bound for the safety of a burrow at the roots of a tree.

For stars' sake––I wasn't even that close. The breeze tickled the back of my ears, and I sighed. I'd used it to help find my prey, but I'd forgotten to take into account the rodent could use it to find me just as easily.

With a groan, I lifted my snout again.

The next scent was fringed with the nose-tickling smell of oily feathers. I knew I had little chance of catching a bird, but I'd wasted so much time already. Maybe if I timed it just right.

I let the gentle breeze bristle through my fur and determined which way the wind was going. That wouldn't be my mistake this time. I followed the scent drifting from the opposite direction. The white-bellied bird was perched on the branch of a young sapling, and the brown speckled feathers of its back faced me.

My chest and haunches hung just above my paws. I prowled closer, each step slow and meditated. The tree was right in front of me.

I focused on the bird and centered my body. I just needed to be a little closer.

A crunch beneath my paw jerked my eyes to the ground. Several rotting twigs blended in with the rest of the forest floor, and they snapped beneath my weight. Flapping wings shot upward, a blur of pale feathers that nearly gave myself a start, but I leaped after it.