Bearclaw Valley i'm never finished answering to the dead

Little was but a shadow in the dying underbrush, the deer ahead of her completely unaware of her presence. She shifted eagerly, stalking closer, pausing when one of the deer glancing towards her, tail flicking in warning. Her gaze alit on a buck, young and healthy, strips of velvet hanging off its antlers in tatters. They were all healthy, and strong, and not fit for a hunt by a single, lone wolf. 

The girl leapt from hiding, hollering a whoop and tearing towards the deer. They started and moved as a single organism, snorting in alarm, Little hard on their heels. She would run them for as far as she possibly could, driving the wild stampede onwards, challenging herself to run further, faster. She had no idea, however, that she pushed the herd directly into the path of another, and did not notice him as the deer crashed his way, all charging bodies and swinging hooves.