Kyrie had gone on some hunts with the wolves, not that it helped ease his feeling of isolation and loneliness. Although Gertrud and Sieghart were attempting their best to befriend him and understand his situation.
Kyrie had taken the top of a hill above the clearing the wolves lived in as a base of sorts. It was nothing special or great, but it was where he chose to be.
Away from the pack but in the position to jump and help them in case they were in a pinch or danger. Behind him were the empty racks.
The meat has been dried up, and the skin cured. After a week or so, he cut it all into manageable sizes. Now all that was left was "bonding" with them, not that Kyrie could do it in any meaningful way.
He couldn't do it with humans; with wolves, it was a harder job to execute.
