Moonspear i’m through with bibles, and i’m through with food

Dragomir angled into Arcturus' direct path as the Beta led them uphill, choosing to follow the man's footsteps directly for the climb. He was pleased to note that climbing the mountain's tamer slopes now felt no more strenuous than walking on flat earth. He still had a long way to go before he could master the highest peaks, but he was able to get around most of the territory with little trouble. Sometimes when it was really cold his leg would seize up and pain him. Most days, he was fine.

Bobbing his head, Dragomir tried to think back to that hunt in Diaspora. He couldn't recall if the pack failed or succeeded. He couldn't recall much of anything, actually. Kazimir was hurt, he remembered that, but the exact way that it happened eluded him. Did they catch their prey, or didn't they? He didn't know anymore. Is it worth the effort if we fail? he asked. Surely small game was easier to catch and took less effort. As it turned out, Dragomir hadn't eaten a lot of big game since leaving Diaspora, either.

Arcturus' question was met with a curious frown. Not really, no, he realized. He had ideas about it but, having never put those skills into practice, he actually knew next to nothing. Just chase them til they get too tired to run anymore? It was the complete opposite of what he'd do with a small prey animal, which required a quick burst of speed or it'd be lost, so he thought it was a good place to start.