Okar was hungry, and quite weary.

He had travelled far since the sun had set last, and it would set again soon before he could let his pack and himself rest for more than a few moments.

But he would remain strong.
He led his small yet vicious pack of Laichanan from the cold Mountains where hunger bit like sharp teeth.

Okar often had to lie in wait for ever to catch a stray Giagrene.

How Okar hated that taste on his tongue.