Whitefish River "brew glory,"

As the herd came into view, Rue's attention shifted from the landscape to the hunt. She may have been a scout at heart but she was a huntress by training, and the reflexes that had been intilled within her were difficult to ignore. The girl's honey eyes wandered over the herd, and as usual her focus was drawn to the frolicking youth. Had she been alone, one of the juveniles would have been her most prudent target, and so this was where her attention naturally settled. 

Rue's brows drew together in confusion when Liri pointed out the young buck, but upon closer scrutiny she realized the wisdom behind the alpha's selection. Although the wound didn't appear to be giving the buck much trouble at the moment, it was likely that it could slow him down once the herd was on the move. He was also a good selection from an ecological standpoint; his bold behavior around the females would eventually earn the regent's disfavor. He would probably be exiled soon anyway, and shortly therafter he would become the meal of a opportunisitic hunter. They might as well cull him before he could wander away to fill the bellies of some other predators or pack. 

Without hesitation, Rue nodded in response to Liri's question. "Yes, I don't think we should have a problem catching and separating him." Rue had no doubt that she could run down the stag, and she had seen Liri in action enough times to know not to underestimate the ivory woman's abilities. Rue's concern was not speed, but power. She would have no trouble reaching the stag, but she would need the assistance of one of the stronger wolves to bring it down. Perhaps they could devise an ambush of some sort. In her birthpack Rue had been well-known for her swiftness, and she had often been tasked with chasing the unlucky prey into a trap.