Dawnlark Plains bron-y-aur stomp

Pack hunt! MOS assemble! @Grayday @Dawn @Pema @Aditya @Sunny @Kieran Adrien @Sylvas Streiter @Sorrel Marie @Dauntless @Easy @Lavender -- Next round will begin the 27th (or when everyone replies)!

If there was anything to be said about the plains, it was that they were a big game hunter's dream. Plenty of space to stretch the legs, with no chance of losing the animals in the trees or over a stream. And while this territory didn't have the dedicated herd that the plateau had hosted, there were bands of deer and elk that still wandered through, and as winter melted into spring, those bands were increasing in size.

Shale sat atop a small rise, downwind from one of these bands. A group of about nine or ten deer, many of them pregnant females. He kept his eyes off those, knowing that to spare them meant their numbers would swell--and with that, the wolves' prospects for food soared.

No, his gaze rested firmly on an aging male, past his prime, his arthritic knees clicking with every step. Eyes glassed over with infirmity and pain; joints bony beneath the thin skin. While he wouldn't be the biggest feast a pack would have, he would be more than enough to sate their hunger and provide Morningside with their first big kill on the new territory.

It would have to be him.

Shale threw his large silver head back, giving his packmates a long, insistent howl. Alarmed, the deer raised their heads, and some of them trotted off--but not the target. No, he continued to graze, skin twitching with wariness but not quick enough to flee at a moment's notice. He would be easy to cut away from the others, easy to take down. The only danger were his antlers and hooves--but the wolves of Morningside were much quicker than the old bull; Shale felt confident they could run him down without injury.