The Sunspire Moosecraft

Coelho had hunted many things in her life, but preferred those things be small as possible and definitely without antlers. She didn't know what to expect when she heard the rustlings of a pack activity, but as she came upon the scene of a clearly ill moose, followed by a ringlet of hungry wolves -- well, it didn't take a genius to figure out the reason for the collection.

She swallowed, ears flat to her skull as she inspected the moose. No, not moose. Monster. It dwarfed her, truly! She didn't even come up to its front knee, let alone his flank -- not even Rannoch stood that tall or fiercely. And its antlers - its jesus-christ-those-are-honking-big-fking-antlers -- they spanned twice the length of her body on one branch alone.

No, Coelho didn't like these odds. Terrified, she pressed herself into a tussock of spring grass, her ears disappearing into her rufus fur and her tail tucked tightly to her stomach. Surely at some point someone would see this was a bad idea...

Right?