Flycatcher Downs vorarephobia

He kept up a steady lope, salmonberry eyes locked on the spike as it arced through thickets and bushes in a desperate attempt to re-join the herd. For a creature on its deathbed, it certainly had plenty of fight left. It was going to be tough to down it lest he chase it for miles and somehow lose the herd.

His tail flicked in annoyance - until a streak of brown passed him in a blur. Another wolf? While he had expected to be chased like a stray dog wondering into the field of an angry shepherd, he watched curiously as she ducked and dove among the dust clouds kicked up by the herd.

With the deer now panicked and flighty, the ironclad did not let the efforts of his mysterious companion go to waste as he sprinted to block the buck's path with a snarl and a lunge at the beast's jugular.