Bearclaw Valley hym

intuition had them naturally assuming the roles that suited them best: stigmata as the unremitting wave, with a surprise cameo from indra, the bright and impaling coral. they knew their tasks and took to them without hesitation -- the druid watching as the young mother took to the tall grass like a fish to water, making her assassin's approach to the most advantageous spot for ambush. he remained poised to serve as the catalyst, ready to lord and shepherd this sheep to its death; and he waited until he could feel his accomplice had been appropriately positioned.

stigmata parted the grass like a razortusked boar, tactfully giving the field a great shudder as he began tearing towards their now-alert prey. he didn't give the fleeced fillet time to decide which way to flee; driving her instead right into the waiting jaws of a summer-russet snare -- the snap of a finely tuned trap which effectively interrupted the escape of their prey. the sheep was tripped up and bogged down by indra's snagging teeth and claws, and stigmata streamed in like a black arrow that struck right at the ewe's unfortunately exposed jugular.

their prey died in minutes.