Silvertip Mountain Viva la vida (PACK HUNT)

Day shifted his grip as the beast fell, triumph already singing in his veins. This time, with the hamstring firmly in his grasp, he succeeded in disabling a leg. No longer necessary for bringing the beast down, but useful all the same. This way, his packmates could attack with one less leg to worry about.

He became aware of a sharp pain in his ribcage. Oh no. Not again, he thought to himself, remembering the last time he'd felt that kind of pain in his bones. But some creative shifting told him that the bone was still all together, and he let out a painful sigh of relief. Just a bruise, then - but that's going to hurt in the morning!

His eyes scanned the rest of the pack - that he could see - for any possible injuries, but the scent of blood was thick in his nostrils, and there was very little to be seen over the flank of the writhing beast. Deciding that he'd have to worry about the others later, Day turned his attention toward avoiding the beast's other, still-very-active back leg.