The Bracken Woods Night of the Red Moon

Anubis watched him leap up the scaffold of rock and weeds, heading up the various objects as though he had mastered footwork. Tonight, they would feast well; Anubis could tell. They were on the same line of sight when in their own needs dwelled the requirement for skill. Anubis had more speed than strength, giving him the blessing of swift marks landed. His frame was built for little air resistence, short coat over a lean and athletic frame. He had muscles, yes, but the strings that pulled work were for swift snaps and lighting triggered agility trials.

He was sure whatever his own body lacked, the companion would be able to make up for, as the male seemed more built than he. Muscles bulged beneath flames in the coat of this warrior. Pistons pulled and played their serenade, promising more punch than the Egytian himself could deliver. The Prince could appreciate that, and assured himself where the companion left off in speed, his legs would be awaited take of what was not available.

After a confirmed glance from the Red Skin, Anubis too pointed a slender snout into the air, a continues flow of air entering and leaving his airways as the mind sought purchase on food. Just as the twinge of crisp flavor hit him, it glance a blow heavy to the Unknown wolf, the lupine announcing his find with a feral and ungilded roll of voice. Off he disappeared, and into the hunt they both flew. Anubis clutched and released the loam under him with intense mind, though as fast as his elegant limbs galloped, they barely graced the earth. To look upon him from outside, one would believe he was flying, jaunty and broken movements not found in the majesty that was his gait.

Soon, very soon, he erupted through the scene, hip to hip with the Fire Pelt as he too came to sniff for the path of wounded meal. A chewed piece of bark and fecal rust of droppings alerted the Egytian to the quarry they chased.

"Mule Deer."

Those were all the words that left his maw before they fled the scene, already nearing the damned buck by the swallowed distance. The forest failed to hinder them, fell logs posing no threat to the agile tracker and definitely no threat to the long limbed counterpart. Like that of determined shadows, the phantoms kept their pace until they neared the shallow hill, and by then, the blood stained air almost drowned all other scents. They were near. Very near.

The Red Wolf took to his own signature, and Anubis slipped well through the sleek darkness of the lands they invaded. A muted gutteral call moaned supressed agony, the Mule Deer searching for help where there was none. Desperately it tried to lower itself, to take from the river, the life the cold water could bring promising relief form the unbridled torment of the torn haunch of shoulder it suffered. Burgundy, deep and viscous slid down the trembling limb of the prey who had escaped the claws of death from a mountain lion, only to find itself unknowingly in the jaws of two lurking lupines.

Anubis watched from dense foliage, body lowering to the most unseen of crouches as it neared to get into a startling position. His plan was to wait for the deer to thirst deep enough to be forced into an uncomfortable position, and just as his shadow stopped, primed, posed well, did the mule take to twisting in varied positions to try again for that ill-fated drink. The Sekket would leap, snapping and snarling at the wounded mule, trying to force both the strength and the reliability of wasted limbs from the deer. The deer would either fall by it's own means of weakness, stumbling across pains joints from sheer fright and suprise, or it would be mauled down by the two overly prepared lupines.

Ears laid flat against a crown of fitted darkness, as he began his assault.
Up and over the cover of darkness and into the blood light of the Night Sun, the Egyptian sailed into the clearing, launching directly at the mauled meal.