Phoenix Maplewood I know the bowline, sheepshank, and the double overhand

Nochtli landed a fatal blow, cutting through the does gullet like a hot knife through butter.  It was a grousome scene to watch unfold, but Reek felt no qualms. Food was food, and the rumbling in Reek's stomach kept him barreling toward his prize. Mid gallop, Reek inhaled. Senses were snared by the pungent scent of blood. The hunt was over; they had won.

Pulling ahead of Citali, Reek lunged for the dying doe and sank his teeth deep into it's haunches. Clamping down, he pulled, tearing the sinew and a mouthful flesh away with his powerful jaws. It was only an appetizer— soon the main course would fold to the ground, and Reek would have his fill.