[ P ] famine

COLBURN

The changeling child felt the familiar pangs of hunger once night arrived luring from his lair in the Redwood into the fields of Edinburgh. A feast awaited him if he played his cards right. Many hunters prowled through the hilly landscape and with them fresh kill. The superstitious sometimes even left some of their bounty as offerings to the fae which he gratefully accepted. Today luck was not shining upon the shadowy thief. Winter was the bane of the hunter and for Colburn that meant nothing to steal. The darkness of his pelt hid the signs of hunger sculpted by the tightness of his flesh hugging his hips and ribs. It was nothing new to the boy who had always been slight in frame and small in size. He had been born a runt and a runt he would likely die.

Nose to the ground he followed the stale scent of death to a black tree stump half buried by the snow. Something had died sheltering beneath its withering roots. A long time ago from the appearance of the corpse's condition. Bones with scraps of flesh remained, but it would be enough to take the edge off. Digging out one of the leg bones, he sprawled out beneath the stump and chewed on the femur contentedly. Saliva gathered in the corners of his mouth even at this tiny morsel that would do nothing more than tease his taste buds.

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SORCHA A sigh passed her lips as she wandered through the snowy field, a scrawny rabbit dangling from her jaws. Winter was well and truly here, she thought bitterly. A half-days hunting and this was all she had to show for it. It wasn’t even worth selling, but it would do for her on the road back to Perth, where she would maybe have a bit more luck hunting in the dense forests of her home. An older, stale scent of death caught her attention, and even the best hunters knew when to take advantage when the opportunity presented itself, especially in winter. It would be poor quality, but if it was edible... food was food. It didn’t take her long to track down the source, but it appeared she was beaten to the prize. There was something sickly sweet about the scent now that she was closer, too. Rot. “Oh, God’s, don’t eat that. Here.” Dropping her catch to the ground, Sorcha placed a paw on the rabbit, latched her jaws around its middle and pulled, tearing the corpse (mostly) in half. She tossed half dangling from her jaws at the boy. “It’s not much, but it’s fresh. At least you won’t get sick.” "someone speaking" "speaking"

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COLBURN

The boy was contentedly chewing on the brittle rotten bones, lapping at the strips of leathery flesh and nibbling on them. It didn’t taste very good, but Colburn had learned not to be picky at a very young age. If it stopped the gnawing pains in his belly then it was good enough. Unfortunately there wasn’t enough to feed a rat left on the bones let alone a yearling wolf. Snow peppered his black silhouette framing his dark shape even in the blackness of the night and revealing his presence amongst the shadows of the stump. He was crunching on the ribs of the carcass when a voice drew his attention.

“Oh, God’s, don’t eat that. Here.” He heard something wet and slimy tearing nearby. Black eyes squinting at the brown woman who he had not heard come upon him. The woman held something in her jaws and tossed it over at him. He tried to catch it, but ended up getting a face full of half disemboweled rabbit instead of claiming his prize. Blood splattered on his features, but the scruffy child greedily licked his chops not caring about the mess staining his fur.

“It’s not much, but it’s fresh. At least you won’t get sick.” She expressed concern for him which made him suspicious. He was too hungry to care if the food was poisoned and took quick bites, lifting his head to squint at her just in case she changed her mind and tried to take it back.

“I ain’t got nuthin,’” he told her just in case she expected some sort of trade for the food she had provided him.

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SORCHA It seemed like she hadn’t gotten his attention quick enough before tossing him a share of the rabbit, as bloody entrails splattered on his face as he tried to catch it. Not that it mattered, the boy was near choking down the meat, glancing at her periodically as he hunched over the carcass protectively. He was a strange looking boy, now that she had a chance to actually look over him. Black head to toe, unnaturally so. Voids for eyes, with glimmers of silver where the light struck. It was the only way she could tell when he was looking at her. “I ain’t got nuthin,’” He spoke between mouthfuls, and Sorcha gave a huff of laughter. “I figured as much.” She answered with a slight smile and settled down where she was, deciding she might as well finish the rabbit now. “It wouldn’t get much anyway.” She took a bite of the rabbit, watching him curiously. “Hunting not going well for you either?” "someone speaking" "speaking"

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COLBURN

The rabbit was devoured quickly enough that the boy didn’t have time to chew properly and he choked it down rather than swallowing. Once it was gone his belly felt strangely heavy. He hadn’t eaten this much meat before and it was odd feeling full. All the prey he had stolen had had to be divided up between the other children he had invited to live with him, but now he was alone. Dark eyes lingered on the blood stained snow where his feast had been, wistfully wishing that there was more. He lapped at the red snow with his black tongue, swallowing it down until all that remained was white. Pain flashed through his head, a band of pressure through his forehead. He lifted a forepaw and held his head. “Owww,” he hissed, confused by the sudden headache. What was wrong with him? He didn’t associate the pain with the snow he had just gorge on.

It cleared quickly enough and he was able to focus again. Black ears perked up when the woman spoke again claiming that she didn’t want anything. Then the food was free? That was his favourite kind of food. He looked over at her, appearing less suspicious, seeing her as a foodgiver which was a good thing in his mind. She asked him if his hunting was going poorly and he shrugged at her. “I don’ hunt. Dunno how,” he admitted, unbothered by his ignorance. If free food lady would give it to him then he didn’t need to bother.

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SORCHA The rabbit did not last long once it was in the boy’s jaws. He ate like it was the first time he had tasted fresh meat. It was likely the first decent meal he had eaten in a long while. He didn’t even stop once the carcass was gone, lapping eagerly at the blood stained snow until a shudder passed his body, and a paw was pressed to his forehead in a whine. Sorcha laughed softly. “That’s the ice, it’ll freeze your brain if you keep that up.” Iona had said the same when she and Shaw were pups in their first winter, although Sorcha hadn’t understood how the ice could freeze inside her, In reply to her question, he gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I don’ hunt. Dunno how,” She turned her gaze to the sky in feigned dramatics, giving an exasperated sigh. “Lord above.” It was no wonder the boy was so skinny. “You better learn, you won't survive long on handouts and rotten meat.” She couldn’t imagine how he had gotten this far without knowing how to hunt - be it luck or the Fae’s blessing, she did not know. She swallowed her final bite before addressing him again. “Do you have a name, kid?” "someone speaking" "speaking"

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COLBURN

The dirty charcoal furred yearling squinted at her in confusion and discomfort since his head still throbbed. Freeze his brain? He didn’t really know what a brain was, but he didn’t want to freeze it. It was painful. Lesson learned Colburn decided that he would not try to eat snow again. He scuffed at the ice with a small paw, punishing it for daring to freeze his brain. ”It’s stupid,” he grumbled, giving his opinion on the snow. He didn’t like how cold it was and how hard it was to sniff out carcasses beneath it. It was also wet and he hated getting wet.

He followed her gaze up to the sky, brow furrowing in confusion. There was nothing up there, but a few birds flying around. She was a strange lady, but she wasn’t bad or mean so he felt safe enough to remain in her presence. She remarked that he wouldn’t survive long without knowing how to hunt. Many times he had come close to death, but managed to steal enough food to get by. People sometimes left offerings for the fae which he helped himself to since he believed himself to be one of them. “You a hunter?” he asked, black eyes regarding her with curiosity. She didn’t look like one of the imps and they normally chased him away. They certainly wouldn’t give him food. "It's Shadow,” he gave her his latest favourite alias in place of his name, much too suspicious to trust anyone enough yet with his true name.

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SORCHA ”It’s stupid,” He huffed, scuffing the snow with a dark paw and Sorcha gave a snort of laughter. “I guess it is.” She mused. She had a few stronger words for snow and winter in general, but she didn’t think it appropriate to voice in front of the boy. Stupid would do. “You a hunter?” he asked her, sounding genuinely curious, and she nodded in answer, licking the blood from her jaws. "Not much to show for it, but yes." "It's Shadow,” “I’m Sorcha.” She gave her name in return. “So are you completely alone out here or do you have someone to go home to?” She questioned, voice taking on a softer edge as she regarded his skinny frame. She might have just met the boy, but the thought that he could be entirely alone left a heavy weight in her stomach. There was little she could do for him - she was not in the business of adopting orphans, but it would set her mind at ease to know he had somewhere to go. "someone speaking" "speaking"

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COLBURN

There was a nod of approval from the sullen youth when the food-giver agreed with his assessment of the snow. He stomped on it a few more times with a small paw for good measure, making sure to leave a crater in the aftermath of his tantrum. The bones went forgotten now that his belly was full, attention focused on the earthen toned woman who had taken an interest in him. It was rare that he could hold a conversation with someone without something unfortunate happening that led to him running away. It was usually his own fault, but more superstitious wolves had treated him badly in the past leading to his mistrustful nature.

The food-giver admitted to being a hunter, but winter was taking a toll on her work. It seemed they would both welcome the spring when it came. “Show me," he insisted, realising it might be his only chance to learn. She introduced herself as Sorcha. He tested the name on his tongue, not speaking it out loud, but making sure he didn’t fumble with it.

The question about his home and family status caught him off guard, causing suspicion to rise to the surface. “I got a home,” he answered. It was a hole dug beneath the roots of a redwood tree, but it suited him just fine. He purposely avoided answering if there was someone in that home to return to. There had been, but his friend was gone and he was alone again. It was the curse of the changeling and he accepted that.

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SORCHA Shadow, as he quite fittingly called himself, seemed to have latched on to her profession, and although she could not quite see it in his eyes she could hear the intensity in his voice. “Show me," She had to admire his straightforwardness, even if he was a bit demanding. “Please.” She amended, a slight scolding tone to her voice though her smile was thinly concealed. He got all cagey again at the mention of his home life, and answered her shortly. “I got a home,” Sorcha cocked her head, eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t being entirely honest with her, she was sure. Well, if he didn’t want to share on that aspect, the least she could do was make sure he could feed himself. With a huff of breath, she hoisted herself back onto her paws. “I’ll give you one lesson, just so I know that you can at least catch a rabbit on your own.” She shook out her pelt before returning her attention to the boy. “I haven’t got all day, so let's get a move on.” "someone speaking" "speaking"

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