make me better — o, hunting

[jacob w.c.]

Probably to no one's surprise, Jacob wasn't much of a hunter. He'd set up traps a few weeks ago and he just went around to those every once in awhile to get what he needed. His diet primarily consisted of pasta and baked goods but he needed meat to include in various sauces and dishes. Besides, he couldn't justify eating pasta every singe night. He already at too much of it as it was and he needed to rotate different things into his diet. Today, he was making his usual rounds to check on his traps. He'd decided on their location after watching the habits and patterns of the prey in the area. He'd then picked the optimal locations and he rotated them every few days so the prey wouldn't learn where it was and avoid the spot. He'd already grabbed a few rabbits from the day and he was getting ready to head back. Even if he wanted to bring back more, he knew he'd have to make another trip around to carry it all. Maybe he'd come back around later on in the day when he went for his evening walk. A change in routine wouldn't be so bad, he supposed.

He was pulled from the thoughts of his traps and diet when he heard two voices, one more familiar than the other but still recognizable. He made his way towards the pair with a light smile, setting down the prey he'd gathered. Despite the amount of prey, it hadn't been easy to learn how to get this much in one round, though. When his legs had first started to go bad, the first thing that was affected was his ability to find food. Even in the city, it got harder to chase mice around or to jump into the trash and look for the things that were perfectly good but humans just threw out. His Babbo had always provided for him, of course, but he knew he needed to learn how to do things his own way. One of the first things he'd done when he came to Snowbound was plan out his traps and devise a plan for catching enough prey to sustain himself. Even with all the other food he gathered and ate, he still had to eat meat. If he didn't have to, he would have likely stopped a long time ago except for the bits he liked to add in some of his sauces. 

"I could show ya' how ta' set up traps n' whatnot, if ya'd like. 'M pretty good at it. I ain't fast enough ta' catch the prey m'self, with my legs n' such so tha's what I use. Or, if ya' want, ya'll could jus' come over ta' dinner tonight. Jersey's still of travelin' n' whatever so I don' get no one ta' eat with anyway n' I always make too much for jus' myself," he offered, a light smile on his maw at the prospect of sharing a meal with someone tonight. He didn't like eating alone and he often forgot to eat at a decent time when no one was there to remind him. He'd always get wrapped up in books or music or a walk or some other activity. His focus always seemed to be either completely in one subject or on nothing at all. If he was thinking about one thing, it didn't even occur to him to try and think about what other things he should be doing or what he might be missing out on.

★ though the scars remain and tears will never dry, i'll bless my homeland til i die ━