Dragoncrest Cliffs jungle bird

He slices deep enough to whet his palette, garnishing his muzzle with burgundy driblets. Blood weeps from her throat. Not the killing blow but a fatal one all the same.

He grounds with great force, buckling so as to circumvent the groan of his joints. He is semi-successful at that. Pain travels up his limbs and takes hold in the hinges of his being. Ouch. He will feel that when the adrenaline wears off.

What of Blackbear? He catches a glimpse of her in his pursuit, trudging along at a clip. She's gotten the short end of the stick this hunt. Could it be ineptitude, he asks himself. Inexperience or not, she catches up soon enough, relieving him. Glad to see you could keep up.

Everything after that was a kaleidoscope of events. Time had little significance save for the exhaustion that crept upon him. The burn of his lungs and the tiredness sowed into his muscles drives him.

The sanguinity of the situation is not lost on Natjuk. Blackbear elicits and he answers with an ecstatic smile. The doe's lurching step flags the end to this great chase. He quashes that hastiness that has cost him many times in the past. No, not now. Not at this pivotal moment.

Moving into position abreast their prey, Natjuk launches one more time. Success. With an implacable hold on her neck she finally crumbles, thrown off balance by his impetus. She descends, legs unfolding to frantically kick. But Natjuk understands her despair, taking her into his spit lacquered mouth and finishing it.

Hush. Your fight is over.