Barrow Fields blood and wine

Kjalarr decided that, in the end, the bizarre friendship that appeared to be between the moose and the coyote didn't matter. The perplexity still remained, of course, but it was hardly the time or the place to puzzle it out. That could come later after Floki and him and feasted themselves full on the supple and decadent flesh their prey had to offer. Though the moose was the more tempting of the two — it meant more meat — Kjalarr would not be so picky as to turn his nose up at the coyote. He had supped upon the flesh of wolf before and did not see much difference and was not opposed to settling for the lesser of creatures.

Kjalarr's grin stretched from ear to ear when Floki confirmed that they should take their chances, exposing his sharp, gleaming teeth in the process. There was little better to bond over than the adrenaline, thrill and the familiarity of hunting together. The trust and silent communication that it took to properly orchestrate it and the advantage to being twins was that at times their communication could be wordless: nothing more than a feeling, simple in it's complexity but just as effective as if something would be spoken. The unlikely pair began to move and hungry eyes followed them. The coyote parted from the moose then, but Kjalarr was inherently too suspicious to believe that it had truly departed the scene for good. Surely, it would come rushing back to the rescue of it's friend when the twins made their move.

“She would be wise to not interfere.” If she did...well then the consequences would be her's alone, Kjalarr thought. Floki began to move and Kjalarr mirrored his brother's stance, slinking low — though the lack of tall grasses and their pallid fur color no doubt gave them away. Stealth was not truly an option, for no doubt the moose was aware that it was being stalked. Kjalarr broke away from Floki then, veering as to position himself so he would have easier access if the moose attempted to flee. Effectively, he was attempting to flank her opposite of Floki, herding her to where the twins could grab the upper hand. His grin easy where it remained upon his lips at the promise of a feast fit for king's. There was a chance that the moose could evade them (and he was not so arrogant as to pretend it wasn't a possibility) but for once he allowed himself the rare favor of positive thinking.