Fortunately, winter started late or none of us would have survived. However, with each month the death tolls rise. The Pikas wail and cry in pain and suffering as the weak ones die from lack of food. We hurt.

My Adulthood: March, My 5th Spring
A select few of us survived the winter. As soon as we possibly can we come out and begin to gather again. Unique helps me to the point of exhaustion, we all work to exhaustion. We lose some to hawks and other predators, fears are high and tensions and painfully tight. A fight breaks out everyday: a squabble over food, land, or some other thing. I must try to break them up so we can work together, but Pikas are difficult to deal with.