Moonspear the day's divinity

Brief silence descended between them before the footfalls of another reached his ears. Dirge turned his head only slightly to catch the glimpse of a dark face and sterling body; his focus remained solely on the feeble doe. This was only disrupted when another arrived—Hydra's brush against him did distract him. The interaction was brief as he puffed a hot breath against her passing ear, a gentle sidestepping to follow and give her room. Of them all, she deserved to stand there.

Following the rounding of their numbers, Amekaze made short work of her plan. He could not avoid mirroring her smirk; he would have done the same. Wearing down prey was half the fun, especially the larger it was. Her voice trailed into the hushed surroundings and he chimed in with a confident rejoinder: "Even a lame doe can give a swift kick if she has nothing to lose. In pairs we could overwhelm her from differing directions. Confuse her, take our pound of flesh and then some when she's not looking. She'll come down easily." A one-two punch over and over and down the mountain she'd go, right into their waiting bellies.

He could almost taste the tender flesh through the anticipation.