His job was to hunt. For him and his mother. To keep them both fed. So regardless of the pain in his limbs or the heavy pounding in his chest. He had to push through. Didn’t matter if he was tired, being lazy wasn’t an option. He’d already gotten off track, following the scent of a lynx hidden in the forest. He’d given up when the scent led him in circles, realizing far too late that he wasn’t the one tracking the other. His fur itched with the realization that the lynx had been watching, playing with him. He’d given up and left, finding a small clearing where a rabbit caught his attention.

His own body was black and slender, fit in the way on was built for speed and not strength. He was fast. He had no doubt he’d catch the rabbit. So he crouched, stalking low to the ground. His movements were slow. Any of the forest’s sounds drowned out by his own screaming heartbeat.

He launched up quickly darting after the rabbit. Only for his blood to catch up to him. Or lack there of. His vision went black, his limbs falling slack under him. Awkwardly he stopped in his tracks, stumbling with a dazed look before he tripped and fell onto the ground. He stayed there, semi conscious. He was panting heavily, trying to calm his panicking body. The world around him was spinning fast, he knew the rabbit was far gone by now.
Leaving him collapsed in the snow covered grass. His paws cold under him. His vision returned but he didn’t move. He’d over done it. His fur bristled in frustration, his claws digging at the ground below him.