Lost Creek Hollow The persuaded we

She was trying to figure out how to wrangle most of it herself.  Hopefully by the time it got to the kill she'd be confident that Breccan would be able to assist, but in this slightly more fiddly and not obvious part of the chase, the work was on her shoulders -- he just needed to run along and be scary so the deer kept going.

Treason shifted her position behind the deer, trying to steer it towards a bigger branch of the creek.  She snapped at its hindquarters, uttering the odd snarl to punctuate the point, to drive it away from her and towards the way she wanted.  It kind of cooperated.  Treason thought maybe the wider patch of ice might give them an advantage too -- a little bit of slippery footing for their already unstable quarry.

But she, too, wasn't going to get close to the hooves at this point, figuring it needed to be run longer before she could dare to try to open its wound more.  As it was, she could tell the seeping had increased as the deer was forced to run -- if the continued metallic smell of blood wasn't enough encouragement to keep Breccan following, Treason didn't know what would be.  Certainly it would start to slow soon.