It wasn't a particularly large pack of shards of Loboshi that lived nestled
within the Southern Mountains, it was, in fact, quite small compared to the
other 'wild' packs. It was the pack that had been founded under the leadership
and watchful eye of Agwoshi Mooncatcher.

Agwoshi was the oldest Loboshigaru that anyone in any of the wild mountain
packs knew. So many tales of him had been passed down through the generations,
that he was something of a hero to them all. He was the one who scared away
Mother Night with his loudest howls, how he hunted down the greatest white stag
any hunter had ever seen, and his greatest feat of all, managing to catch Mother
Moon Herself right between his mighty paws.

He had become but a shade of the creature he once was, however. The years were
anything except kind to him. His once beautiful pelt turned into a ragged carpet
of white with a few balding spots, and his sharp amber eyes had long since been
ravaged by age and were now glossed over, leaving him without vision. He was old
enough to even outlive his his mate and two sons, and no longer could care for
himself.

Not one member of this pack minded caring for the now semi-hermetic Agwoshi,
however. While nobody /minded/, the responsibility fell upon one lone
Loboshigaru, the frail son of his son.

With a dead rabbit laying limp between his jaws, Garwol gingerly stepped around
the dank cavern in which his grandfather resided, his paws feeling at slick
walls, passing over growing wet moss. His feet gave a few slips and slides, but
with the use of his foot-claws, he managed to (barely) be able to keep his
balance as his legs quivered uncontrollably as if he had run for miles and
miles, knees buckling beneath him.

The smell of the rabbit's blood was enough to rouse the enormous, old
loboshigaru that slept at the end of the cavern. Sounding like a mindless beast
of some grotesque sort, Agwoshi sat up with the sounds of throaty groans and
creaking joints. His gray nose gave a slight twitch as he sniffed at the cold,
murky cavern air. "Garwol?"

Before his grandfather could find out his meal had been sitting within his maw,
Garwol dropped the rabbit into his paws as quietly as he could have possibly
done so, as he did every time he went to bring a fresh kill to the decrepit pack
mate. He crept forward a bit to hand over the slain rabbit, and the receiver
gave a sigh as he took it from his grandchild. He immediately dug a claw roughly
into the rabbit's skin, tearing across it's side and through the pelt before
leaning his head down, biting down against the gash with his few remaining
teeth.

"I hope you don't mind rabbit, Grandfather. It's all I could find, the
mountains are running short on prey again. Not a single moose in sight, neither
I nor Macaru could find anything."

Agwoshi's brow furrowed deeply as he tapped his foot, the long claws making a
faint click against the hard cavern floor. "...What month is it now? And how is
Macaru, anyway?"

"It's Roarkian now, and Macaru could be better..." answered Garwol.

"Oh? What's happened?"

"His parents departed from the First World last night."

Agwoshi paused, staring blindly up at Garwol.

"What happened to them?"

"Starvation," murmured Garwol, his tail giving a twitch. "Kilwai will not let
those who do not hunt their own kill eat, he's been breathing down our necks..so
much for caring for the welfare of the pack. I had to come right here to make
sure you got to eat this evening."

He watched the elder gaze blindly down at the rabbit, a rather bothered
expression overtaking his expression. He looked almost ill, if anything, as he
stopped eating suddenly, swallowing heavily.

"H-How long has this..."

"A year now. I didn't feel as if it was an important enough event to tell you,
you're taken care of."

Garwol lowered himself until he was sitting on the cavern floor, his tail
giving an idle swish behind him. "The Aslaran of the Moors aren't having a lot
of luck, nor are the packs of the other mountains. I had to go all the way out
to the valley beside that city of Light and Half-formed for rabbit." The aged
loboshigaru gave a loud exhale out of his nostrils and gave a few shakes of his
head. "This shall only get worse..."

Agwoshi paused before turning around, curling up upon the ground once more,
laying the rabbit down on the ground before him. "I'm not hungry, all of a
sudden, I need to think upon this." His voice then shifted to being nothing more
than a faint murmur, "Thank you, Garwol... I know the issues you have with your
body, and now you are acting against our Alpha for an old mutt..."

"It wasn't any trouble at all," stated Garwol, a frown crossing his muzzle that
the elder wouldn't ever see. Ever since he was born, the black-furred Garwol was
of bad health, be it sickness or injury that constantly kept him close by his
mother. Now, as an adult in the prime of his life, he was barely any better with
weak limbs and lungs. He was lucky if he could ever slay anything with any fight
to it. Thus, the reason he stuck to rabbits: Small and simple.

Agwoshi closed his glossy eyes and curled his limp tail around him. "You should
probably go, if they find out you were here feeding me, you may get in trouble."

The other gave a sigh before turning, slowly and carefully making his way out
of the cavern in the way manner he got in--carefully. Creeping along the side,
he eventually found his way into the sunlight once more, and not a moment
afterward was bowled over by the bulk of another Loboshigaru who knocked him
into taller grass and onto his back.

Before could even so much as yelp in surprise, Garwol found himself held down
and a paw held over his muzzle, keeping his maw shut. He looked up to see his
brown-furred friend, Macaru, making a 'be quiet' motion with his free paw.

"It doesn't look as if he's here, Kilwai," the two heard a feminine voice say
as there was loud, gruff sniffing.

"I -smell- him, Kuaonia... I just can't place where. The cripple-mutt always
latches onto his grandfather like a pup to a mother's teat. He's here..."

Garwol's ears perked up at the sound of the male's voice. What was Kilwai doing
out here, so far from the rest of the pack? His heart gave a weak flutter of
fear and of panic, a certain chill sinking in suddenly as he came to a
realization.

...Kilwai knew.