A new day began.
Or at least, he woke up and began moving again.
It was hard to tell the time in a place where the sky never changed. The air always flowed in one direction and the beasts always acted the same.
It was hard to tell the time.
Maybe it had been the number of days he assumed it to be. Maybe it had been less.
He didn't know.
He was slowly starting to forget about how time used to flow.
It was the fourth day by his books. He didn't know how much he slept, but it wasn't enough to cleanse his fatigue.
But he could do nothing but get up and hunt.
If there was one thing he could be excited about, it was the fact that his hunts had been getting better with the passing of time.
He was learning how to fight. A faint hope of survival welled up in his heart.
He looked at the wolf corpses on the floor below him. A smile inadvertently crept up his face.
