Without the encumbering limp he had harbored while his hip and leg had been healing from the tussle with the bear he was able to move without broadcasting to every prey within a ten mile vicinity of him that he was coming once more. His colossal size did not allow him stealth in it’s entirety but wolves were hunters by nature and moving as quietly as possible was an instinctual thing learned. Ragnar nodded once, firmly, when Julooke looked from him, to the specific deer she had her eye on. Words were unnecessary to communicate that he understood. For a few moments his icy Caribbean gaze zeroed in on their chosen deer. It walked with a limp as it straggled behind the bulk of the herd, it’s head bowed in a way that Ragnar might have considered graceful if he had ever taken the time to examine his prey as docile beauty and not as a meal. Alas, the Viking did not. Silently, he waited for his subordinate to take the lead, to initiate the hunt because it was hers first and foremost. Ragnar was simply the assistance.
Julooke stepped away and Ragnar mirrored her steps, going right, instead, so they may flank it. Granted, Ragnar’s size did not grant him speed but the Viking was like a tank. If he could grasp a hold of the deer he could, very likely, cripple it to make the kill easier. It had been his tactic when dealing with the bear and while three wolves stood no chance of taking an enraged bear (much to Ragnar’s dismay) Julooke and him could take this deer. The only thing they had to watch for was it’s kicks and hoping that the stag was overly protective of their weak link and came charging back, antlers bared. The birds let out shrill cries of warning, taking to the air. There was a heart beat of a moment when every thing seemed to freeze, the herd glanced up at them and then in another beat it was over and they were running, Julooke zooming off after them. A low curse in ancient Norse left the Viking’s lips as he launched himself after her. If he had known about the hunt sooner he could have sacrificed something to ensure it was successful, yet; this was a good chance for him to observe Julooke’s Gamekeeper skills that she had spoken about.
Ragnar pushed himself further, lips splitting into a ferocious sort of grin, a small little chuckle spilling forth at the thrill of the hunt that hummed through him as he caught up to Julooke, the strenuous contraction of muscles felt as he ran, the blood pounding through his body. It was a rapturous sort of feeling, to let feral instinct grab a hold of him and take over once more. Julooke fell back to dodge a kick the hindered deer aimed at her, Ragnar had caught it out the corner of his eye when his companion went for her uninjured leg. He propelled himself off of a felled log, paws slamming against the earth as he inhaled deeply through his open mouth and bared his teeth aiming for the doe’s injured leg, instead. Teeth snapped only air the first time, there was a frightened noise from their target. The Viking tried again teeth just skimming it, tearing what had began to scab open, the taste of it’s blood staining his teeth pink.
Aside from aiding in trying to get it down Ragnar did not intend to kill it: that honor would belong to Julooke; it was her hunt and she was trying to prove herself worthy of the Gamekeeper trade.