Blacktail Deer Plateau we are the crazy people.

Dante's breath caught as the stag charged at Finley, the crazy wolf barely getting out of the way in time. She was actually laughing right now. Dante had a good sense of humor, for sure, but he was no thrill seeker. His personality was too calm, more of a steady solid presence than the fire that surrounded his packmate at the moment. She was practically glowing. And Dante? Dante was nervous.

Imagining all of the scenarios where this game could take a seriously wrong turn, he braced himself, snarling at the stag whose attention turned towards him. He could tell there was no way that he was going to get Finley to see reason if the present situation was any indication. Nor could he leave her. His only course of action was to try and chase the stag off before anyone got hurt.

Stag: 8 Dante: 4
Oh my...

The stag, however, was not impressed. Maddened by the creatures that dared oppose it, the magnificent creature let loose a throaty bellow, then charged, rack held low and aiming to gore the Gamma should he stay where he was. Leaping out of the way, Dante hit the ground in a roll, then bounded back to his paws. That hadn't gone as planned, not one bit. For a moment it seemed to consider them both, then once more seemed to focus on the smaller target: Finley. "I really think we should get going," Dante called to her, an attempt that he didn't put much faith in. He had to try.