Twisted Slough not gonna let you get away so easy

@Troy. Spar!

He had seen the injured doe just outside Morningside's territory, limping slightly as she moved to graze on the flatlands. Thinking this one would be easy, Shale had pounced from the shadows--but the deer proved smarter than he thought, shying away and dealing him a glancing blow to the neck that could have been fatal had she connected with his spine. Then she had bounded clear, racing across the plains heading toward the mountain range to the south.

Shale pursued. This was personal.

The territory changed as he ran after her, becoming more and more mountainous as he drew closer to the crags. Instead of taking her chances with the barrier mountains, the deer veered northwest, toward the sea. For hours of running, Shale kept her in his sights, making sure to not startle her but to keep her moving, tire her out.

Finally, she led him into a swamp, putrid-smelling and almost impassable. He could see her white tail flick nervously in the dark place, slowing to a trot as she navigated the unfamiliar terrain. Groaning softly in distaste, Shale crept slowly behind her, hating the feel of the cold mud on his paws. It was half-frozen, stinky slush, and it was miserable.