Dragoncrest Cliffs jungle bird

She loosed her fangs from its hindquarter as she took a glancing blow. Panic welled within. The hooves are sharp. One well placed kick and it's game over. The chase is put on hold, the deer leaving with a hysterical gait. Did they hurt it enough to leave a trail?

Despite the instinctual sway compelling him to keep going, he's more worried about his comrade. Putting on the breaks, he swerves, kicking up snow from his impetus. He struts right up to her; a man on a mission. She mustn't be too bad off if she's talking. Lockjaw. Right.

Natjuk. He looks her over, sniffing her face and neck, coming to stop at her ruff. Nothing distressing jumps out. Relinquishing her space, he stands attentively at her side, trying to draw her gaze to his own. Not one of his most tactful moments.

You okay? For the first time in a while, courtesy registers in his voice. Quiet, hushed, with a tinge of urgency.