As good of a hunter as wolves were, they didn’t catch prey every time. This was a fact of life Fanaa was used to, a hard learned and occasionally bitter fact at that. It was even a little harder for himself, in that he was without a pack to provide back-up. Most wolves were secure within the confines of a pack, something he has never had the luxury of. Either way he was content with the way things were, living in the wilds with none but his older sibling. The wolf has little in the way of social knowledge, let alone had not been exposed to it to begin with. The less people that intruded in their shelter, the better. It was easier this way, familiar.

Berries really were a last ditch, the portions small and sweet. Even if they weren’t his preference though, sustenance was never something to pass up. The warm of the shelter that was provided was enough to stop the chill, something that would prevent a chill from creeping up. Chills and cold were another thing Fanaa had learned the hard way, the stubbornness is not dropping a hunt kn cold and rain had once before lead to growing sick. It had been a rather unpleasant experience for the wolf, not knowing what fever was or why it felt too hot and too cold at the same time. As many things were, his brother had taken care of the situation then as well.

Slender fingers pause in their plucking of the berries upon his sibling’s return, and for a moment Fanaa didn’t respond. His posture was a little tense, his body language showing clear agitation. Fanaa knew they relied most on what they were able to get with the act of survival, so a failed hunt was something that left him with frustration. Even after living through times where it was harder than it was now, it was something he continually disliked. His gaze fixed on his older sibling, and a low huff left his lips. Fanaa’s face displayed displeasure, the answer gained from that alone was likely sufficient.

”No. Too much rain. Prey hiding.” Short sentences were usually all the wolf could muster, otherwise they start to get broken up and make little sense. ”Have bowl? I put berries in for you.” His brother’s words caught his attention further, and he glanced at what had been brought. ”I like stew.” His tone was appreciative, approving. Stew was much more filling than just berries, so it was a welcomed thought.

Glancing back at the branch as the stew pot was prepared, Fanaa considered the remaining berries. There was actually quite a lot here, easily a bowl or two’s worth. Despite having eaten some already, he had hardly made a dent. He had picked the right branch, and from the right bush. Slender figures begin plucking the berries again, careful to ignore the berries that weren’t as good.

Today was a failed hunt, though the rain surely would bring some good with it. It would nurture more berries to grow, and the bushes probably wouldn’t run out any time soon. In some places there might even be tracks, ones that could lead to prey. Tracks were very easy to follow for the wolf, and were useful in the event that scent was unreliable. If there was anything to be said about Fanaa, it was that he tried his hardest to pull his own weight in survival. If they were to survive properly, he had to be useful.

Holding the plucked berries in his free hand, he paused once his palm had as much as he could hold. It would be better to wait to pluck more after he had a bowl, as there would be more room. Even if his older sibling wouldn’t want the berries immediately, they could be stored properly. Then if either of them wanted to eat them later, they would be fine and not squished or lost. It would also make for more room, as the branch would be discarded outside or used to bolster the fire after it was dried.