Tired as well, and thirsty and dirty, but the hunger was the hardest thing to overcome. It had been many years since Pavak had eaten so little, not since he had been a lean street urchin, before he had been pulled away from his impoverished family. But the sensation hadn't changed, the twisting pangs that were like a dull knife in his guts. He was no woodsman, and the few bits of spring foraging he had felt were safe enough to eat was barely enough to stave off the worst of the cramps. For the hundredth time he considered turning around, heading back to Denerim and taking his chances with the Templars. There was comfort in a city, and plenty of wealthy folk to separate worldly goods from. He wouldn't lack for ways to feed himself there.
His determination flared to life at that, his body straightening slightly with a surge of pride as he dashed the weak thoughts from his mind. He was not a rat to be hunted through the streets of a city for no greater crime than his being born with magical talent, which was how he had ended up here stumbling across the Korcari Wilds. Thren had told him there were mages that lived out here, free from the gilded cage that the Andrastian's shut their magical followers in, and Pavak was determined to find them. He would miss living in a city, amongst the ebb and flow of people, but it was a small price to pay to be able to take pride in who he was.
The last scraps of sunlight were chasing themselves over the horizon, kicking up a cool evening breeze that swept across the harsh landscape of the Wilds. This country was colder than anything Pavak had experienced before, and he was glad of his shaggy coat as he ambled along in bear form. For the first few days he had walked the road as a man, but the chilly nights and the lack of food forced him eventually to stick to an animal for the majority of his time. A wolf would move faster than a bear and was just as warm, but Pavak shuddered to think about eating as a wolf. At least bears ate nearly the same things as humans.
The thoughts of food were so pervasive he almost didn't believe when the rich scent of stew tiptoed past on the wind, the heavy smells of meat and vegetable hitting like a hammer in his stomach. He swung his great muzzle around, beady eyes searching for the source of the smell as his nostrils greedily drank it up. The biggest problem with bear form was that you had the senses of a bear. The smell was great, but the eyesight left much to be desired. Still, in the rapidly darkening night he caught the glow of a campfire some distance off, and it was all he could do to keep from galloping straight into the clearing and begging its occupant for a portion. The knotting of his stomach pushed him closer though, all thoughts of secrecy or caution tossed aside.
He circled around the clearing, carefully picking a path through the thick brush as he dithered, torn between turning back into a man and asking politely for food, or simply casting a few spells on the camp's owner and stealing it.