3/17/2026, 8:59 AM
Good.
Bogart nodded, "Good." He couldn't echo the instinct she possessed, he didn't even know how to pretend. All he could discern was all he already knew. Hare. Deer. Elk. Tracks—if they weren't fresh, he had no idea how to parse out more specifics. While he hadn't ever been convinced he'd starve, chased too many squirrels to believe it, he had wondered how long he'd have to go hungry before he got his fill of something.
The truth of the matter was simple, he needed her more than she needed him.
He'd have to prove he wasn't dead weight.
Sulukinak moved and he went to followed.
Froze with a single forepaw lifted to his chest.
It wouldn't be fair to call it a threat as much as it was a... strongly worded declaration. "Won't scare it," he reassured her. "Swear." This wasn't necessarily something he could promise and make good on it, but he reckoned the effort not to devastate this hunt had to mean more than nothing.
As she pressed forward, a slinking shadow emphasized by the snow, Bogart lowered his head in a half-stalk and plodded behind her. He tried to make sense of the way she behaved; the shift of muscles, the precision with which she cut their path without so much as a stutter in her step. To no surprise, he wasn't as graceful. Quieter than before but far, far from stealthy. For this reason, once the taste of... hare—hare—clouded his focus, he let out a soft whuff. Just enough to catch her attention. "S'close, ain't it?" He questioned, then cautiously probed, "Right?"
He hoped.
Bogart nodded, "Good." He couldn't echo the instinct she possessed, he didn't even know how to pretend. All he could discern was all he already knew. Hare. Deer. Elk. Tracks—if they weren't fresh, he had no idea how to parse out more specifics. While he hadn't ever been convinced he'd starve, chased too many squirrels to believe it, he had wondered how long he'd have to go hungry before he got his fill of something.
The truth of the matter was simple, he needed her more than she needed him.
He'd have to prove he wasn't dead weight.
Sulukinak moved and he went to followed.
Froze with a single forepaw lifted to his chest.
It wouldn't be fair to call it a threat as much as it was a... strongly worded declaration. "Won't scare it," he reassured her. "Swear." This wasn't necessarily something he could promise and make good on it, but he reckoned the effort not to devastate this hunt had to mean more than nothing.
As she pressed forward, a slinking shadow emphasized by the snow, Bogart lowered his head in a half-stalk and plodded behind her. He tried to make sense of the way she behaved; the shift of muscles, the precision with which she cut their path without so much as a stutter in her step. To no surprise, he wasn't as graceful. Quieter than before but far, far from stealthy. For this reason, once the taste of... hare—hare—clouded his focus, he let out a soft whuff. Just enough to catch her attention. "S'close, ain't it?" He questioned, then cautiously probed, "Right?"
He hoped.
