Northstar Vale pale widows

and hunting is all you might do today, sir, stigmata refrained from revealing, as this wolf did not seem to care or understand that he was under trial; not for a position among them permanently, but for one that was at least temporary, and he didn't seem to have many fans in the crowd. he might've been better off hiding out and trying to scavenge later, at this rate.

he surged forward, plowing the way for his wolves, though the diaspora band followed almost reluctantly; stigmata careful to bring up the rear - lazily so. the stranger cared not for the interim comrades under his command, and he proved that he had both no mind for coordination, and a rash temperament that did not stop on the social level. such a blunder - he thought - choosing a target after making his charge.

he watched as takiyok sought to correct the early mistakes made in a wicked show of her own speed and power, flanking the creature with razoring fangs plucking at the old doe's side. finch is there too, a golden spear, more vicious looking than he could remember her - probably blowing off some much needed steam. mahler hung back, like himself, wise and calculated. in no rush to finish the inevitable. fear would be the end of this grazer, more than any physical wound the pack of them could deal.

only when the doe inevitably turned, frothing and exhausted, did stigmata shift gears to add his teeth into the fray. he went for her hindquarters and latched on to a tender hip, dragging her to the ground and leaving her flailing, yet prone to a killing blow.