Big Salmon Lake [m] Fresh out of an icky gooey womb

They hadn't taken the time to hunt. Not completely. Sure, they'd tided themselves over with smaller game and snacks here and there, but in their travels there hadn't been much of an opportunity to go after anything more sustaining. Until the mule deer. As always, Tonravik had picked up on them first and Kerosene clued into her endeavors shortly there after. They stalked, approaching the lake where the deer settled to quench their thirst and rest for the afternoon.

The deer spotted them. Kerosene shifted, flicking his ears aside in his brief annoyance of their lack of cover and lost element of surprise. All the same, he hunkered down and hyper-focused upon the herd, watching and waiting for some deer to take a risk they could take advantage of. Upwind, he was also oblivious to the wolf looming further in the breeze.

There it was. That one. He nudged her, turning his nose in the direction of the fawn that slipped a little too far away from the herd.