The Bracken Woods Apathy

Entire hunt with permission. I wrote it from my phone so I hope it makes sense, lol.

The woman moves without looking to see if she's being follow; she doesn't have to. Instead, she focuses on the their goal, studying the way the young doe moves through the trees. The prey seems nervous, unsure of herself. She'd gotten lost when they all fled into the covering of the bracken woods, separated from her herd. Thuringwethil hadn't expected to see them again but her stomach flutters, moving away from the large male. He doesn't deviate far, mimicking her path to the opposite side. Synchronized, calculated; words simply weren't necessary.

Grey eyes search quickly for him, watching as they settle to watch a few minutes more. Thuringwethil slips quietly past the deer, searching for an opening large enough they'd be able to swing her into. The foliage and thick trees make it difficult to maneuver and if they aren't careful, she'll get away.

A small clearing of trees where a path has been worn into gives them the best advantage and she lingers on the other side. Thuringwethil lifts her head to search, peering through the brush. She hears a snap in the distance and, as if he heard her thoughts, barrels through with precision that surprises her. He weaves through the trees behind the doe with an impressive agility she can't deny, closing the distance with snapping jaws and rushing their meal toward her.

She rushes forward once the deer is close enough to meet her, the beast roaring behind and lunging at the creature. Her own paws steadily hit the ground, parting and ready. The crushing ground beneath her feet startles the doe into halting and backing up to change positions but the male, mid-lunge, hooks his claws into the rear.  Thuringwethil crosses he distance with a powerful thrust, latching onto what she can. Her shoulder nails into her side, and between the two the creature stumbles and can't carry their weight combined. There's a sickening snap that forces a growl from her throat, a pitiful crying from the deer, and she latches her teeth into skin and sinks until blood pours into her mouth.

It doesn't take much more effort to get the creature to the ground, writhing around and fighting for her last breaths while Thuringwethil shakes her head into a morbid game of tug and war. His weight on the creature holds her down and when the crying stops and the last heaving breath is taken, she lets go. Chest heaves rapidly as she tries to steady her breathing, blood dripping from her lips and temporarily staining her teeth.