Meadowlark Prairie Oh Lord, Heaven Knows We Belong Way Down Below [Pack Hunt]

bison was not a creature astara had ever hunted before, and as she gathered alongside valour, she delivered serem a deadpan look of surprise as if to say that is what you have chosen? that literal hunk of immovable, inviolable death? her gaze flickered from stout beast to tall she-wolf -- surely, it was not a task for the uninitiated.

astara did not speak, but the discontent was visible as she waited -- no, longed -- for merrick to arrive. he was her mouthpiece, her boon -- without him she felt no more relevant than a stunted rose growing in the shade, unobserved as the rest of the world simply passed her by. surely he would be along any moment now -- surely, he would say what she could not in terms of how improbable their success seemed.