[ WP ] A world where people have to go foraging and hunting ... For processed prepackaged food .

The tribe hunts as one. The beast is fast and heavy and strong, but we are smarter. It tries to outrun us, but we know its way — an odd path of gray rocks in the high grass. Today, this trail leads to a trap. 
 
 The beast runs headlong into the pit. It tries to stop, to reverse, but it is too fast and too heavy. It wheezes and roars and scratches the ground, raising fountains of grass. It's a large one, largest we have seen in a while. Its carapace shines brightly in the low evening sun. 
 
 We surround it, slowly, carefully. The life has no place for the reckless. 
 
 The beast shudders. It knows it can not reach us from the pit, and it ca n't escape. But it wo n't give up. We hear the buzzing, faint at first, then stronger and stronger, until beast's carapace splits, releasing four buzzbirds. 
 
 We are ready. The buzzbirds are a formidable enemy — many tribes claim them as a totem, many hunting parties lost to them. So we do n't give them a chance — Mika throws her spear first, followed by me and Lake and Wal. As all the birds fall, we bow with respect — so that their spirits leave us in peace. 
 
 The beast shudders again and we all look at Alek. His spear sails gracefully through the air, and hits the only weak spot, piercing the beast's brain. 
 
 And so we work, in the cool evening. We break open the bowels of the beast, its freeze sections. We get out the honecombs, the coldcells, the foodboxes. Nothing is lost — what we ca n't eat or use we'll trade with other tribes. We get back our graphene spears. And once all is done and all is taken, we quickly leave — before any other beasts or buzzbirds could find the place. 
 
 And on all the boxes — the same sign — and same on the carapace of the beast. 
 
 Amazon.
