Duck Lake I haven't always been the King

Please allow @Rannoch to post first. I have no idea when this takes place.

It'd been sort of dumb of him to hunt alone, but the buck had been old. Decrepit.  He'd figured - if I could just get one good bite in, I can herd it toward the cuesta and let it die on it's own. Easy meal.

But with age came a certain wiliness that Grayday could only hope that he would someday develop. And oh, he'd gotten his bite in, but the buck was resisting all attempts to be herded, and had, in fact, gone further from the cuesta than Grayday had in months. Several times, the male had considered giving it up as a bad job, but he didn't want to just let the thing run off and die on it's own. He'd never been wasteful before, and he didn't want to start now.

So he'd stopped chasing the buck, and had begun following at a distance, simply waiting for it to die. I'll have a snack and then run to the nearest pack, and tell them where it is, he decided as he watched the buck drink from the lake up ahead. Day laid down with a heavy sigh, a bored, grumpy expression on his face.