Noctisardor Bypass Even tramp has his Achilles heel

Moray had been biding his time with the herd, perhaps for too long, however there had been one cloven individual that'd caught his eye. An elderly doe hanging back from the group limped forlornly behind the others, lame in her left leg and an easy target. The dust-coated youth wasted no time in rising his still body from the snow, muscles tensing in preparation for the chase as a gutteral bark broke the silence.

Anger bit at his stomach and he choked back a snarl as he forced his legs into a windmill of movement, a pointless attempt to gain ground on his spooked prey. But alas, they had already fled and the smoked devil swung his shoulders round to face the disturber with a steely glare. "Idiot," he rumbled under his breathe, though it came out as more of a higher squeak. Curse his young larynx.

The intruder (well, Moray was the real one) was fair coated and jovial, not something a disgruntled yearling favoured seeing after a failed hunt. It was fair to say annoyance was what drove his paws towards the man in a purposeful, wannabe menacing gait

No worries!