Black Morass fear the reaper

------------ LETS DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN ------------
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Despite the moist ground and mixture of scent in the bog, Vengeance had managed to pick up a relatively strong one to follow. Shoulders rolling under the flesh, matted fur rising and falling in peeks over his shoulders, hardened from muck and grime that he had collected here in the Hinterlands. 

With an alongated stride, he managed to catch up with the doe. She was alone, but fair game for a pair of healthy wolves. Once the female he had met back at the other carcass had found him, they would spring into action. Already he had come up with the best possible plan to make a successful hunt as plausible as possible. With his weight and strength, all she had to do was make a well placed bite and the hunt would be over as soon as it began.

Ruby eyes wandered the lands around him, one eye always focused on the doe in his peripherals as to not loose her. Ears scounting for sounds of any approaching footsteps.