the days were growing wet and warm. spring was in full force, with wildlife returning by the day. in the morning he had stocked the caches with small game, poached from the stretch of thin deciduous trees that bedded the ridge. afternoon found him restless, so he moved east, towards the plain.
deer had begun to gather by the stream that cut through the territory. he was lucky to find himself on the same side. he crunched his body down to hide behind a gentle hill and observed them in silence as the wind passed through.
a pale streak came from behind him and startled the herd. his eyes narrowed as he watched them scatter. one head fell from the crowd. he traced its path, watched as the man pivoted to lock on.
instinct tugged at an opportunity. though he had every intention to hold back, the ashen beast lunged from his hiding spot to join the chase. he closed his position with striking speed, and
set his fangs upon the twisted ankle.
ultimately, he was unable to hold his grip. the deer and the huntsman continued across the plain.
his mirror burst forward, drawing close to the side of the animal only to bear down without success, a resounding clack that punctuated the heavy staccato of their breaths.
typhon tried to position himself but was unable to find an advantage. he drew back as the deer disappeared into the forest, and wondered how receptive the clawan would be to instruction. they only needed to sustain their chase longer than the deer could run on its wounded ankle, and it did not have to come at such expense; they could take their time, they could wait it out.
but the caches were full, and typhon was not intent on padding them out when there was an opportunity to learn from this failure. panting, he watched to see if the other wolf would give chase.