Miles. You’ve been walking for miles, looking for food to scavenge with absolutely no luck. The farmer you usually stole from had moved a few weeks ago, and left you without food to eat. You came up on a den, you noticed, that had the faint scent of meat.

You crawl inside, sniffing for the source of the food. You sneeze up some dirt, and a voice rings out from behind you.

“And who are you? I didn’t know I had company, I would have cleaned up the den if I did.”