[Burnpaw]

Mistake shakily stepped towards the dirty puddle, lapping at the water despite the pain it caused her torn at muzzle. She glanced around worriedly wondering where Storm was before catching a whiff of the young hunter. Only a few moments after she smelled her son, he appeared from behind some wreckage, carefully making his way around debris with what looked like a possum in his jaws.
Storm set the possum down near the pack, growling, "This was all I could find today..." He trailed off, tail wagging slowly. Something strange about Storm was that he never wagged his tail when he was happy; only when he was deep in thought. "I suppose I could try again later, but I'd have to search farther, the prey is starting to deplete in this area..." He was obviously trying to figure out the best course of action, eyes flickering from dog to dog, calculating how much food they'd need o survive, and how much food they'd need to thrive. That was his goal after all; make sure the pack thrives.