A few days in, and Yelp was already convinced the world outside his home had been specifically designed to make his life miserable. Back home, the farthest he'd ever wandered was maybe a hill or two beyond the den. Here? He'd been walking until his paws ached, sleeping wherever he happened to collapse, and waking up just to do it all over again. How big was this place? Did it ever end? A wolf wasn't supposed to survive off whatever happened to be lying on the forest floor, right? But that didnt stop him these days. Berries that looked mostly harmless, mushrooms that he was at least 60% sure hadn't poisoned him. Acorns, other random nuts. A flower or two... At one point he'd eaten something he was pretty certain had just been a leaf.
"What's this? Can I eat that? Is that supposed to smell like that? Uh oh, there goes my stomach. Am I gonna die?"
He wasn't...Well, hopefully at least. His stomach certainly acted like it wanted to. He'd been living it up like a damn squirrel with the way he was eating. Nothing of it filled him up. No way hed ever grow biig and strong with such a diet. No way. He needed meat-- real meat, which meant learning how to catch it. Unfortunately, there was a rather significant gap between wanting to hunt and having the faintest clue how hunting actually worked.
At present, Yelp was barely recognizable beneath a thick coat of drying marsh mud, standing in bog water that reached barely halfway above his legs. Burrs clung stubbornly to his fur. Something green had become tangled around one of his ears hours ago, and he'd long since given up trying to pull it free.
His ears swiveled independently, attempting to track the chorus of croaks echoing across the marsh. Ooo right there! His body lowered, muscles tensing in anticipation as he spotted round beady eyes just breaking over the waters surface. He launched, followed by a wild splash.
"MMPH?!"
Instead of frog, his mouth found marsh weeds, mud, twigs. Something stringy that absolutely was not supposed to be in anyone's mouth. A whole full course meal of bog.
Yelp gagged violently, stumbling backward as he spat the entire swamp back into the swamp. In a fit of thoroughly justified frustration, Yelp slapped the surface with one muddy paw.
"GOD DAMN!"
The marsh answered only with ripples. For a long moment he simply stood there, breathing hard, glaring at the water as if it had personally insulted him. Ever since he'd woken up alone in this strange place, it had been one thing after another. Walking, sleeping outside, finding food. Everything was harder than it had any right to be.
...But quitting wasn't really an option anymore.
With a long, tired sigh, Yelp crouched back down into the reeds. It wasn't the first time he'd disturbed the water this badly. Eventually the frogs always came back.
Honestly, they were kind of stupid.
...
A pair of little eyes poked above the surface.
"...Hah."
Then another. And another.
The half smile that began to form on his face slowly deflated as Yelp squinted at the emerging frogs.
If they're dumb enough to keep coming back... What the hell does that make me?
"What's this? Can I eat that? Is that supposed to smell like that? Uh oh, there goes my stomach. Am I gonna die?"
He wasn't...Well, hopefully at least. His stomach certainly acted like it wanted to. He'd been living it up like a damn squirrel with the way he was eating. Nothing of it filled him up. No way hed ever grow biig and strong with such a diet. No way. He needed meat-- real meat, which meant learning how to catch it. Unfortunately, there was a rather significant gap between wanting to hunt and having the faintest clue how hunting actually worked.
At present, Yelp was barely recognizable beneath a thick coat of drying marsh mud, standing in bog water that reached barely halfway above his legs. Burrs clung stubbornly to his fur. Something green had become tangled around one of his ears hours ago, and he'd long since given up trying to pull it free.
His ears swiveled independently, attempting to track the chorus of croaks echoing across the marsh. Ooo right there! His body lowered, muscles tensing in anticipation as he spotted round beady eyes just breaking over the waters surface. He launched, followed by a wild splash.
"MMPH?!"
Instead of frog, his mouth found marsh weeds, mud, twigs. Something stringy that absolutely was not supposed to be in anyone's mouth. A whole full course meal of bog.
Yelp gagged violently, stumbling backward as he spat the entire swamp back into the swamp. In a fit of thoroughly justified frustration, Yelp slapped the surface with one muddy paw.
"GOD DAMN!"
The marsh answered only with ripples. For a long moment he simply stood there, breathing hard, glaring at the water as if it had personally insulted him. Ever since he'd woken up alone in this strange place, it had been one thing after another. Walking, sleeping outside, finding food. Everything was harder than it had any right to be.
...But quitting wasn't really an option anymore.
With a long, tired sigh, Yelp crouched back down into the reeds. It wasn't the first time he'd disturbed the water this badly. Eventually the frogs always came back.
Honestly, they were kind of stupid.
...
A pair of little eyes poked above the surface.
"...Hah."
Then another. And another.
The half smile that began to form on his face slowly deflated as Yelp squinted at the emerging frogs.
If they're dumb enough to keep coming back... What the hell does that make me?