the seadragon hunts.

his intended had set the price for her hand in marriage: a six or more point antler and a doe skin.

the doe skin, the easiest task, rhaegal leaves for last.

he follows a lone buck through the bleeding forest, letting the light snowfall tumbling through the canopy yawning above blanket his back.

torn ear twitches — a small, instinctual cringe — golden gaze locks upon the prize: counting eight points upon the buck: strong and muscled ...but there is flecks of white along it's back and a slight but strange shift to it's walk that resembles a limp.

a cast off of it's herd due to it's inability to keep up? or chased off by a younger buck more hale and with plenty of virility? either was likely, rhaegal surmises.

for now, rhaegal hangs back; shadowing the buck but calculating his chances at taking it down for what he truly wanted.

In search of food while the band took a break by the river, Lilia roved further inland. By this point, she'd forgotten what tiredness was. She roved with a hungry scowl on her features, hoping to find something small for herself, that she might not have to share- but instead, she found herself following the trail of another wolf. One who smelled of brine. And he was pursuing a deer. 

She licked her lips. She had hunted deer before- she would be lauded if she came trotting back to the river with part of a fresh deerkill that she could, in fact, share with the rest of the band. She tracked along carefully, and when she spotted the man, she approached with even more caution. She sought his gaze, to match it with her own- and insist that she take part in the hunt, silently.

the scent of wolf, tangled with the scent of many others draws rhaegal's attention away from his quarry. the girl is alone; draped in furs of chocolate and blonde, a sweep of his golden gaze told him.

the match of their gazes and the understanding of the silent question passed betwixt them.

rhaegal has no need for the meat: only the antlers. better then, if they were successful, that the meat go to someone who wanted it and did not instead rot.

a nod is given; a gesture of his muzzle given: choose regardless of if she chose to corral the buck or make the kill, rhaegal would follow.

When she moved a bit closer, she recognized the scents of other wolves on his pelt. Combined with the scent of saltwater, she deduced that this man was of Sapphique. She'd have questions for him- mainly about how Quennell was faring...Perhaps he'd tried to visit her in the past month, only to find the pack dwindled down to only its meekest members. Perhaps the word of war had spread, and Quennell knew that she marched, now. 

But presently, they were hunting deer. 

The one Rhaegal had isolated did not look healthy, and moved with a limp. In the forest like this, against two wolves, it would have to maneuver around the trees while being chased- and if its stifle bothered it that much, it would not be nearly as nimble as it would need to be to outrun or outmaneuver the wolves. 

She prowled forward. She wanted to get closer, before they ambushed the deer. She was an excellent herder, with her slim, dark physique. She would keep the buck's eye in hers, and wait for the right moment to flush it.

anticipation ripples thru rhaegal; a tidal wave thinly veiled and barely controlled. he is itching to begin the hunt, having stalked it for long enough. it was almost too bad there wasn't a way to get it's antlers without killing it: but he suspects part of this bride price was to show physical prowess as well as attention to detail.

he hadn't asked.

not that it mattered away: regardless of his to-be doewife's reasonings he would be doing this regardless.

he watches the buck and his hunting companion, waiting for her to make her move.

The buck flinched. Lilia froze. Its gaze swept over the area where she crouched, but when it river away so it could look over its other shoulder, Lilia gestured with a flick of her muzzle and bolted for the stag. 

It sent up a cry that sounded like a gunshot. A warning for any others nearby that there was danger. Lilia took advantage of its momentary hesitation to close in, and when the buck began to move she followed it, snapping her jaws together. 

She would crowd it, and begin herding it into the more dense part of the forest, wiling it to fight against bushes and brambles so it would either tire itself out, or get caught up in the undergrowth.

she moves after the buck and while she chases after it, rhaegal shadows: huntress and quarry.

he stays close, keeping tight without interfering with her or the buck, loping thru underbrush and branches that whip at his face.

as he moves, relishing in the exertion of muscle and rush of adrenaline he focuses on the task at hand; golden gaze straying to his true prize every now and then.

beautiful. dangerous.

he knew it was hooves and those very antlers he coveted that he'd need to be wary of.

a few miles pass and the buck's limp becomes more and more pronounced. a low bark is given to her: go for it's flank before he pushes from the underbrush and makes a beeline for it's thick neck; throwing all of his weight into his launch.

For Lilia, it wasn't so hard to navigate through the brush. She was short and slim, wily and weasel-like. She grinned when she saw the buck's leg snag as it attempted to leap a clump of brush, knowing that they had pushed it into a more dangerous territory. Its soreness became notable, and Lilia honed in on the leg that was causing the buck trouble. 

At Rhaegal's bark, she lunged forward. She sprang when she met his flank, sinking her teeth into the tender skin there, and hanging for a moment or two. The buck bellowed and sagged toward the ground with pain, before reaching back to flick Lilia off with a scoop of its antlers. The brow tine grazed against her side, but she let go and dropped to the ground to avoid having it drag through her fur and skin. A hoof flashed, and caught her in the shoulder, sending her back a few feet with a percussive grunt. 

But she would not lay there. She sprang again, and grabbed a hold of the buck by that hock, just above its ankle, and pulled.

while lilia works on bringing it down from her end; rhaegal focuses on the kill.

despite it's age it fights. and this, rhaegal could respect.

suddenly, all at once, his grateful for the stranger's help, glad that the whole buck would not waste and rot as he took only what he wanted from it.

the buck's antler catches his shoulder, splicing flesh. in the heat of the moment, rhaegal is blind to it. adrenaline acts as a temporary balm.

the buck buckles by her efforts, front legs crumpling as it's back legs sprawl out behind it.

rhaegal moves in for the kill, growing gradually aware of a dull stinging in his shoulder that ached more pronounced with each passing second.

he makes quick work of it's death, not intending to let the majestic beast suffer; pulling back when the buck grows still.

The buck staggers and pulls, and when it lunged to dash Rhaegal away with a swift swoop of its antlers, it jerked its hoof from Lilia's grasp. In that moment, Rhaegal blinded the creature, and it bowed down to its attackers. No sooner had its great breast touched the ground than Lilia lunged for its flank, to sink her jaws into the supple flesh there and discourage the beast from fighting as its life faded. 

In its day, the buck would have been king- but its time had ended, and its body would renew the spirits of many wolves. Lilia growled appreciatively, when the beast stilled and went limp. She eyed her hunting partner, noticing then that he had a tear in his shoulder. She'd seen worse wounds heal, and she knew the wolves of Sapphique to be tough. 

She bared her teeth in a victorious growl, tail waving proudly behind her. She was out of breath, but exhilarated that the two of them had managed such a feat.

the buck is down.

rhaegal draws in a deep breath, one that he'd been holding; metallic taste of the beasts' blood in his mouth.

the pain his shoulder grows more notable, demanding of his attention but he is hale and hearty like the rocks that stood against the mercurial sea on meares island. he would have one of the healers tend to it when he returned to sapphique.

like his torn ear and scabbing wounds on his cheek: he would not let this stop him.

his hunting companion's victorious growl draws his attention and the leviathan's golden gaze finds her. i'm rhaegal, he offers in introduction. it feels a little strange to offer it in the aftermath of a successful hunt, but neither had had much of a choice lest they scared the stag off. i only want the antlers, he admits. for my intended. a small thrill fills him as he thinks of vairë. you can have whatever you want from the rest. i dinnae mind.

Her heart thundered, still, when Rhaegal spoke his name and voiced his unusual request. His voice, and the accent it had, reminded her of Njord. Lilia, of course, was pleased to find out she would make off with the rest of the carcass, which would feed her pack. She'd be lauded for that; so she thought for a moment, before she came up with an idea. 

She tore into the flesh high at the stag's flank, and tore out a long piece of meat. It steamed a bit, still, in the cold air. But it was one of the choice cuts to be had from the deer's haunch. She moved toward Rhaegal, and set it down gently on the ground. 

"You can have the antlerth for shore. Can you take thith back to Quennell?" She asked, flashing him a grin, then. "Tell him it'th from Lilia...I'll come vithit thoon, I promith." She had not seen him in some time- but she wanted him to know she thought of him still. She'd string that boy along for longer, if she could, by sending a gift in his direction. "Thank you for the hunt. My pack ith on the move, but they will appreciate thith meal for sure." She said.

rhaegal gets to work on removing the antlers — content to let her take what she wished from the corpse.

he pauses in his progress only as she gives him a strip of meat with a request: could he take it to quennell? he eyes it and then her, the gears in his mind turning.

aye. he eventually agrees; after assuring himself that he'd give the gift but he wouldn't involve himself beyond that. it wasn't his business; which was an easy way to temper down the worst of his curiosity.

though he wonders, a moment later, if the boy was well enough for visitors yet, remembering that he was one of the bairns that had gotten injured by the bear.

at any rate, he would make sure the strip of meat from lilia got to @Quennell as soon as he returned to the cliffs.

There was something fishy about how he spoke, and his hesitation made her wonder if he actually intended to give it to her friend or not. But she saw something familiar in him, in the sound of his voice and the small patch of red on his tail. That might make him family of Njord which...Perhaps word had spread about the two of them, making out in the tunnel. Her cheeks burned but she kept her features pleasant. 

Once he'd moved off with his antler, she called out for her pack, so they might come and have a meal to hoist their spirits.