The deepest part of the cave had been dug downward a bit, approximately five square ters in size, with thick layers of dry grass covering the floor.
As soon as the little cub was placed on the ground by its father, it scampered toward the grass nest and began to frolic in it, thoroughly joyous.
The mont Dubi stooped to enter, he found himself recalling the sturdy, spacious, and bright houses of the Watson Tribe, and the large courtyards that were so beautiful.
"What’s wrong?" the female turned her head, looking at the puzzled Dubi with curiosity.
Dubi shook his head, "I suddenly thought of the tribe we left behind."
The female took his hand and led him to sit down in the grass nest at the back, then turned and moved a stone from a corner, carefully extracting a piece of at from beneath it.
"This is our food for today. Eat up," she said, placing a piece of dark red beast at in Dubi’s hand.
Looking at the obviously not fresh at, Dubi felt as if he were in the coldest season, stripped of his clothes and thrown into the snow, chilling to the bone.
"This is what you’ve been eating after I left?"
The orc’s voice seed to squeeze painfully between his teeth, word by word, his face a greenish pallor, extrely unsightly.
The female pursed her lips, intending to say sothing, but recalling the hardships she and the little cub had endured alone, her eyes welled up again.
In front of her partner, she didn’t want to tell a single lie, so she simply nodded, "This is actually one of the better tis. Sotis there’s nothing at all, and I have to go out and find sothing to eat myself."
Nothing at all?
Having to find food on her own?
As an evolved orc adventuring for the sake of the tribe, his own family had nothing to eat within the tribe itself?
Thinking of those from the Watson Tribe who went far away to hunt and didn’t return for days, every day, orcs shouldering fresh prey and females carrying freshly gathered fruit would deliver to their hos.
When the orcs contributed to the tribe, their families were well cared for by the tribe, which touched Dubi deeply.
He held the no-longer-fresh at in his hand, his eyes filled with a cold light, "I’m going to find the beast in charge of distributing the food."
Upon hearing this, the female imdiately grabbed his arm, "Don’t bother, it’s useless. This is what everyone in the tribe is eating now."
"What about the Clan Leader?"
Hearing the word "Clan Leader," the female’s sowhat martial eyebrows furrowed, "Every day, the newly hunted food is taken directly to the Clan Leader’s cave."
"And Otto? Has he not approached the Clan Leader about this matter? Where does the Clan Leader take all the food, and what do we eat during the cold season?"
The female sighed, "Otto has now fallen out of favor with the Clan Leader, who has relegated him to the most marginal places, and we haven’t seen him for a long ti."
Dubi felt a heavy heart; Otto was the orc from the Watson Tribe who had made contact with him and was now the Clan Leader’s brother.
"The Shaman..." Dubi began, but then closed his mouth.
During the old Clan Leader’s ti, the Shaman had never liked the current Clan Leader, and the relations between the two beasts were always strained. Now, at a ti like this, he certainly wouldn’t get involved.
Dubi looked at the dark red piece of at in his hand and sighed deeply.
How had his tribe co to this?
He was even starting to miss the days in the Watson Tribe, so beautiful and fulfilling.
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