Panther Park there's a humming in the restless summer air

Coin gold orbs follow her slithering form stalking behind the unsuspecting herd. His excited grin never falters, neither do his eyes. They are stuck to the elegant form of the nameless she-wolf, flicking occasionally to their target. His gait is firm and strong and he watches with great anticipation as she stills, the calm before the storm. The click of the trigger before a bullet is ejected from the barrel of a gun. A moment of calm for death. Then she’s speeding towards them, weaving in and out of the deer that don’t hold their interest, instead she has her eyes on the prize and is doing an excellent job at beginning to herd the animal his way.

His own muscles twitch which the anticipation. They’re wound taught as he shifts his stance and plants his paws firmly. Getting ready to dart for the doe himself, his heart pumps blood through him rapidly; the hunt never gets old.

As the fiery woman nears, her pearly white fangs becoming stained with the animals life force. She’s expertly nipping and turning the animal towards him. The doe fights at first, refuses to bend to the flame licking her with its deadly heat. Eventually, she relents. The burns becoming too much to bear, she’s heading right towards him and Donovan’s muscles tense. Just like earlier, he hones himself in on his target, the wolf behind her only a mere afterthought as he’s taking his chance and sprinting forth. He doesn’t have to go far, before he’s toe to toe with the hooved animal. He shoves his body into it and is surprised to see its gangly lets keep its body afloat. Then he shoots his massive a head forward with a viciousness one could feel in their soul, teeth bearing dangerously and he plants them securely into the does neck with a solid jump. Front paws lift off the ground and his mouth is already filling with blood due to his assault.

The victory is short lived. The weight of the males body and the awkward angle to which he hangs on is bringing the doe down. I’m the blink of an eye Donovan’s limbs entangle with the deers and they’re rolling and sliding in the grass in a heap of blood, confusion, and limbs. If Donovan were more fragile he probably would’ve gotten hurt by getting tumbled on by the full grown deer. He’s sure he’ll only sport bruises and scrapes from the hunting escapade.

Hey there they go skidding through the grass, and finally coming to a halt. Kicking limbs out in blind panic it tries standing, but it’s legs do not comply and blood spills from its wounds, leaving it light headed. Donovan gets a leg stuck beneath the animal and struggles to escape from the weight, looking to the sangria wolf for assistance, while the doe  flops its clumsy limbs about in panic.