It’s our last meal for the day
– the last remaining scraps of meat from yesterday’s hunt. It was Him who caught this animal with horns. I don’t know what it’s called; He knows its name. It’s not like it matters whether I know what we’re eating or not. What is the value of my knowing? Only He has the right to know.
He has been trying so hard to find more food for us. I almost felt guilty for licking the last bits of meat. Those scraps were the only ones left from his hunt. I know it is more difficult for him to hunt now because of this strange weather. Every animal seems to have hidden behind the thickness of this white sheath from the sky. This sheath is lovely to look at, but it deprives us so.