Flycatcher Downs vorarephobia

Any solidarity the herd animals might have had disappeared when she harried them. They leapt and bounded away, soaring with each graceful leap and creating a growing gap between the fleeing herd and the fumbling stag. 

She chased them only as long as she needed to, before she turned and spotted the floundering spike in the distance. A bolt of grey lunged for its throat. Not wanting to miss out on the action, she began to sprint back toward the fighting duo.