Dean's scrambling over the ice coated rocks. He keeps losing his footing so it's hard to keep up a steady pace when he's running and he's losing the rabbit. It burrows into a hole and Dean can't get to it now and he most certainly can't dig with his bare hands; the ground is rock solid.
He sighs and looks into the distance, trying to look for more food but all he sees is a dirt road, coated almost completely with the ice. The only giveaway that it's a hiking trail is the fact that the path is slightly more sunken than the ground around it. Dean decides to take his chances, starting to jog down the path. He thinks that just maybe there will be a lone hiker who can provide him with some nutrients. He's aware he looks as if he's been living in the forest for years and he has, but that doesn't help his 'approachable' appeal.
He seems to jog for hours, the bitter wind chilling his bones and he's about to give up hope but then he sees a patch of leaves rustle under the thin coat of snow. His grip on his spear tightens and he plunges it wildly into the pile of crisp leaves. They crunch as the spear cuts through them and then they still. Dean prays that he's caught at least something as the cold's given him a greater hunger than usual and his need for meat is a rather prominent and dominating thought in his brain. To his sweet delight, blood seeps out from the leaves and colours the snow in a thick, sickly red. His lungs are burning from the jogging and the icy air entering and exiting them but he grins all the same, pleased with his kill even though he doesn't know what it is yet.
Shoving the now bloody leaves out of the way, Dean finds that he has killed a hare. Another smile stretches across his chapped lips. The hare is substantially bigger than the rabbit he'd been chasing previously so he'll be more filled after consuming it. The reason he now needed to hunt again was that the amount of meat the buck had left was dwindling and, as the buck had a better taste than some of his other kills, he wanted to keep some to eat at a later date and also to ensure he'd have a meal if the weather became simply too cold.
Dean throws the hare in the air and then catches it, playing with his kill. He flings it over his shoulder, hands clasped firmly around its legs, and makes his way back down the path, retracing his footprints. He's on a high, more so than normal as it's the dead of winter and he has some meat to eat, not just hard berries.
He makes it back to his camp and tosses the hare onto a flat rock, brushing the snow away before doing so. He searches for some firewood that had been sheltered from the snowfall and isn't too damp to use before returning to his camp. It's then that he notices the hare is missing. He curses and punches the nearest tree. He knows he should have been more protective of his kill but he wasn't thinking, too happy to remember basic things such as 'make sure your meal is secure'.
Dean buries his head in his hands and sees that the last of the buck is also gone. It seems he must go and find some berries if he wishes to sate his ever growing hunger.
Short update, I know and I'm sorry.. It's a bit awful and filler-y.. But my mind's kind of elsewhere at the moment aha. I hope this is okay enough though. It's nearly seven in the morning and I haven't slept and I'm updating for you. I expect sympathy. No, I really don't.. I just hope you like it. I should stop typing now.
