Hoshor Plains and now, i crave it all

Red's attention fell from the ghostly bison. Her gaze swung back to meet his loping steps. He could see her calculating him, trying to determine what he meant by his swift approach. It did not take long for the discomfort to find her. Ithrik breathed heavily so that he could exist in it; he wanted to remember the fragrance of her fear for as long as he could. The moments before death were always so significant. It was the easiest part to forget in the heat of the hunt. The devil would be sure not to allow this one to slip too far away from him.

She turned to run; her legs churned to leave him as quickly as they could. As soon as she fled, his body jerked forward and he snapped his jaws, missing her by a russet hair. His stilt-like limbs did not fail him, though. Ithrik plunged himself into a speedy pursuit. His breath rose from his nose and mouth in heavy plumes that floated overhead. Already, he could savor the precise seconds his teeth would close around her throat.