Dragoncrest Cliffs jungle bird

Again, they engage. And again, the herd is cast into panicked upheaval. Most jump or run, passing unhindered. Natjuk does not become addled by the multitude of shapes, fixated upon their doe. It helps that she is marked by crimson filigree, glowing like a torch in their morose surroundings.

Blackbear does her part singling out their quarry. Natjuk intercepts the doe just as she's coming down upon her fore hooves. He heaves forth with jaws wide open, trying to put an end to this. He's fairly certain he's launched himself just right to land a hit but nothing is ever so straightforward.