Dawnlark Plains Hungry, hungry

The frost-crusted grass crunched beneath Sivaak's paws as she prowled along the tree line, her crimson gaze fixed on the herd of deer grazing in the clearing ahead.

The air was sharp and still, her breath curling in faint tendrils as she crept closer. Among the herd, her eyes locked onto an elderly doe—frail, slow, and perfectly vulnerable. Her lips curled faintly.

Just as she began to move, the snap of a twig shattered the silence. The herd startled, bounding away in a frenzy of hooves and snow, their panicked cries fading into the distance. Sivaak froze, her blood boiling as her opportunity vanished with them.

Her head snapped around, her eyes narrowing into slits as she scanned the brush for the source of the disruption. Her hackles rose, and a low growl rumbled in her throat.

"Show yourself. Sivaak be merciful.".

Between the peak and the glacier, the shadow of a wolf passed swiftly through. Winter was not so harsh here; the grass was not yet laden with snow, leaving ample grazing for herds such as the one he followed now.

It was a simple accident that startled them, a clumsy misstep from a hungry man. In truth, he had not noticed the woman - she blended in well with the landscape - and it was not until she spoke that Randolf was able to locate her figure among the white.

He could have decided to stay put, but a shared annoyance at the loss of their quarry drew him from the trees. "The deer live to see another day," he greeted her with a cool stare, rather unperturbed by her threat.

Sivaak’s crimson gaze snapped toward the source of the voice, her lips peeling back in a snarl. The figure that emerged from the trees was shadowed, his cool stare meeting hers without hesitation. His lack of fear did little to temper her anger; if anything, it only stoked the fire.

"The deer," she growled, her voice low and rough, "live because you are clumsy."

"You cost me my kill," she continued, the edge in her tone like the crack of ice underfoot. "Help get new one."

Her snarl was met with a sympathetic wag of his tail, hung low between his legs. While her anger was justified, her temper was not, and Randolf did not understand her fury. "It was my mistake," he apologised simply, stepping boldly towards the bristling white woman. But while he seemed attentive of her, his gaze fell beyond to where the herd had disappeared. They could not have run far.

Nodding curtly, he acknowledged her request with a grunt and examined the deer tracks nearby. The elderly doe had followed, but slowly. If they left now, there was a chance they could catch her before she reunited with the others.

Taking a few experimental steps, he glanced back to gage the woman's reaction. Would she follow, or would she lead?

Sivaak’s snarl softened into a growl, her ears flicking at the man’s words. His apology did little to soothe her temper, but his calm demeanor and the purposeful shift of his attention caught her interest.

Her crimson eyes followed his gaze, noting the faint tracks in the frost—the staggered, deliberate gait of the aging doe.

She huffed, her hackles settling slightly as she stepped closer to where he stood. The herd had scattered, but not far. The possibility of another kill simmered in her thoughts, keeping her fury at bay.

For a moment, she said nothing, simply watching as he tested the tracks. When he glanced back, her gaze met his. She moved forward without hesitation, brushing past him with a deliberate flick of her tail, her nose to the trail.

“You follow,” she commanded flatly, her voice still rough with the remnants of her earlier anger. “Keep up, or stay out Sivaak way.”

It pleased him to see that his actions had dampened her rage, though his turquoise eyes remained watchful as the woman accepted his wordless suggestion. Sidestepping slightly as she passed, he caught a glimpse of a pelt marred by years of hunting and thought of his own marked leg. The muscles there twinged slightly as her musk washed over him briefly and then the moment had passed.

Settling into a steady jog, the northman instinctually followed her lead. "Sivaak is your name?" he answered her command with a curt question, picking up on the word now twice used by the huntress. 

Though her identity made him curious, Randolf showed little interest in the woman bar the swivel of his ears whenever she spoke. Right now his mind and his body were dedicated to the hunt.

Sivaak’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice, but she didn’t break stride. Her crimson gaze remained fixed on the trail ahead, the faint deer tracks cutting through frost and dirt like a beckoning line. His question was simple, curt, and she appreciated that he didn’t waste her time with chatter.

“Yes,” she growled, her voice rough and sharp, as though carved from the same jagged stone as her demeanor. Her name was all she offered, her attention already returning to the hunt.

His presence was noted, acknowledged, and then dismissed as unimportant unless he proved otherwise. The tracks veered slightly downhill, where the faint rustle of movement hinted at their quarry.

Her tail gave a subtle flick—a signal, brief and silent—as she slowed her pace, her body lowering slightly toward the ground. The faintest sound could betray them now. Sivaak’s ears twitched, swiveling forward as she caught the soft snap of a hoof on frozen grass.

Without a word, she paused, her head turning slightly toward him. The gesture was slight but deliberate, her crimson gaze meeting his for a heartbeat. She motioned with a small jerk of her muzzle toward the faint outline of the herd in the distance.

Yes, came her brief confirmation, and it was all that Randolf needed to tune his thoughts away from the white woman and towards the herd who's tracks they followed. The northman did not offer his own name in turn. That would come later - if she so desired to know his identity.

Such was the nature of life, there were often times when it was necessary to fight alongside the nameless. For now, he was content to remain anonymous as they moved towards a shared goal. 

Reaching the top of a small rise, he too noted the movement of the old doe in the undergrowth nearby, and the rest of the group further along. If they could prevent her from re-joining the others, it would be a much easier task to bring her down.

He could not read her mind, but the tilt of Sivaak's head suggested she'd had a similar thought. Silently, the northman nodded and began to retreat back the way they had come in an effort to leave the doe undisturbed until the woman's command. Once he was out of range, he intended to loop back around and slot himself between the old deer and the herd like a waiting panther.

She crouched low, her massive frame a blur of white and gray against the frost-laden earth. Her breath curled in faint tendrils as she began to move, deliberate and soundless, her every step carefully placed to avoid disturbing the brittle twigs and leaves beneath her paws.

Randolf’s position was unseen now, but she didn’t need to see him. If he was worth anything, he would do what was needed. And if not? She would correct his mistake herself—violently, if necessary.

The doe’s ears twitched, head lifting briefly to sniff the air. Sivaak froze, her crimson eyes narrowing as she waited, her body as still as the frost-covered brush around her. When the doe relaxed, lowering its head to graze once more, Sivaak’s lips pulled back in a predatory grin.

She moved closer, coiling like a spring.

Each step crunched loudly - too loudly - on the frost-bitten ground as Randolf located the zigzag path taken by the rest of the herd. He could only pray the doe was distracted and that Sivaak would move quickly, otherwise their quarry was soon to startle again. 

Settling into a steady trot, his ears swivelled to catch any sign that the white woman had launched her attack and it was then that he finally spotted them through the trees. A thin belt of pines provided cover as he scanned the remaining deer, happily nibbling now the perceived threat had passed. Shrugging, he turned his attention back to Sivaak's domain and settled into a stiff crouch.

He could leave now and she would be none the wiser, but Randolf had a feeling her hunt did not stop at just the deer. Hunger clawed at his belly.

The ball was in her court now.

The doe lowered its head again, its momentary stillness the opportunity Sivaak had been waiting for. Her muscles bunched, powerful limbs tightening like coiled steel beneath her. With a low, guttural snarl that tore through the silence like a blade, Sivaak lunged.

She exploded from her cover, a flash of white and gray streaking across the undergrowth, her paws hammering the earth as she closed the distance in a burst of brutal speed. The doe’s head snapped up, its eyes wide with sudden terror, but it was too late. Sivaak barreled into the creature with the full force of her weight.

The doe staggered ahead, its panic sending it veering sideways, back toward the treeline and the northman’s position. Sivaak pushed forward with relentless force, her paws tearing through frost-bitten earth, closing the distance but not yet near enough for the final strike. Her breath came harsh and ragged as she drove the creature toward him, her body a freight of muscle and fury.

“Cut her off!” she roared, voice crackling like a whip through the brittle silence. Sivaak’s scarred frame veered right, forcing the doe to falter and swerve—straight into the waiting jaws of her ally.

For all her ferocity, Sivaak was no fool. A large kill required coordinated bloodshed, and if Randolf failed to act, her teeth would find him next.

The forest grew still as he waited with baited breath amongst the trees. It was as if it knew something was amiss and held its breath until a growl pierced the quiet. 

Birds erupted from the trees in a cacophony of noise and the northman stiffened instinctually, ears swivelling to catch the approaching drumming of hoofbeats on hard ground. His chest rose and fell steadily, the calm before the storm as the figures of both hunter and prey soon came into view.

Cut her off!

Randolf did not need to be told twice. Already his legs churned to intercept the doe as she staggered again, teeth aimed for her neck. It lit a fire in his belly to fight alongside another, and even as a panicked hoof grazed his shoulder he soldiered on. This was what he was trained for. Jaws tightened around her jugular as she thrashed for the last time before sinking to the earth in jaded defeat.