My kits greet me as I crawl into our log. They are weakly due to not eating enough in recent moons. Seeing them like this strengthens my resolve to find a new land for us. I drop the little flesh from the human and give each of my kits enough for them to be nourished for the journey. The newborn doesn't respond and Instead remains asleep in the crawlspace. I pick him up with my mouth gently to wake him too up, but he barely responds. I bring the flesh piece over and he weakly bites at it.
His breathing is heavy and he squeals as he struggles to eat. I help him put the flesh in his mouth, but it's too dry for him to swallow. There is no water source that can easily bring water to him so he may survive and eat... We have to leave him behind. He isn't even young enough to understand the choice I'm being forced to make. As I move back with the food in my hands to give to the other kits that are stronger. His eyes fill with a stare of pain. All he can see in this moment is a betrayal.
He will die without even seeing a better land and I'm too weak to carry him to it... The other kits seem to vaguely understand my decision. Or they're too hungry to feel the pain of leaving their sibling and only wish to rummage. The moon awakens from it's sleep and illuminates faintly. The wind howls sharply with a cold sting.
I climb up the rock on the hill to see if I can find a smell in the air to guide me. I take a concentrated sniff. It's just bland air at first. The sound of the fierce chilled wind makes me thrown off. I manage to pick up a faint smell of something sweet. A quiet squeak indicates my kits to move closer. The kits one by one lean over so I can pick them up to help them over the jagged rock edge. Due to a patch of frozen water, I slip. My paw digs a portion of my body weight slowly into the rock. Unsteadily I catch myself and regulate my weight to protect my kit from falling.
The pain shoots through my paw as I lower him down, but I clear it out and keep my focus on the scent. It seems to gets faint due to breeze. I remove my paw and a slow steady stream of blood releases along with it. I bite it to relieve the stress of the situation and avoid letting the smell of my blood distract me from the sweet smell. I climb down with a limp, only driven by the sound of the wind and the pain to keep myself from laying down. The kits continue to walk towards the smell. The pain starts to make me slow down. The young start to catch on to the smell and get caught up by their hunger filled minds and run towards it. My squeaks are concealed by the wind and they go beyond my sound reach.