Two Rivers Isle he jests at scars that never felt a wound

He had assessed her right. She cut through the brush in a way that seemed to defy their grasping branches, and beared down on their quarry with a fleet nimbleness he had simply not been carved for. He was not long in following her. Jagwyr grunted, a brief smile at the corner of his mouth, and lurched forward, taking up position some distance abreast of the dark female as they ran.

The doe's head shot up and she whipped it around to face them. She snorted, a loud high pitched sound — the alarm call — and up came the fawn's head with eyes wide. The doe stamped her foot and twisted on her heels. Her blazing white tail was flagging above her hips as she surged away, flying and leaping, her fawn bleating as it worked to keep pace with her.

The black wolf broke wide, flanking the deers' to their right as they ran and weaved, attempting to shake the predators on their tail. His hunting partner was on them nearly as soon as they made to flee, driving them toward Jagwyr, who met the doe with snapping teeth and snarls in an attempt to baffle her and break her stride; to hopefully give the dark girl a chance to cut the fawn from her side.