Travis had just gotten back from hunting with Natalie.

It was ‘dinner’, if you could call a few squares of dried up bear meat a meal.

Travis was out by the cliff.

You knew that there was a good chance of him refusing to come back for food. So rather than attempting to persuade him, you brought the food to him.

He was tracing shapes into the dirt by his feet aimlessly, gazing off into the distance.

He’d heard your footsteps, but didn’t bother turning around to meet the eyes of whomever they sent to harass him.

“I’m not hungry.” Travis said, tossing the stick he was digging into the ground off the edge of the quarry.