Shadewood Dreams seem so real

Rye wasn't hot on Effies or the doe's heels, it was more like medium hot, his body had demanded he slow down before the ensuing tackle and maul began. However he stayed close enough the doe surely saw him as a threat but far enough he could make slower wider turns with the animal. Effie was beginning to catch up to the female and she went for the lunge soon after; out of the corner of his eye Rye partially saw her mistake. She didn't sink her teeth in. The sight was nearly nerve breaking and for a painfully slow minute Rye thought it was all over, going as far as slowing down. His eyes never left Effie, anxiously waiting to see what her next move was and to his delight, Effie kept going. 

She snapped at the deers thigh and the animal fought back, a swift hoof connecting with Effies shoulder. Rye could feel his guts twist as immediate regret took hold. He should've been the one to take the hit, not her. Panic began to spread like wild fire in dry brush, his belly felt flustered and apprisenive for her next decisions. He wasn't sure how Effie would handle the blow, if she quit pursuing he wouldn't blame her, deer kicks were no joke but Effies' tenacity never ceased. She kept going and Rye picked up speed once again, if Effie took another risky lunge he would no doubt step in. 

She lunged again, this time it was a success, the doe fumbled to the ground, dragging Effie with it. The kicks and escape attempts looked violent from Ryes perspective, he caught sight of Effies silent pleads for help and wasted no time sprinting to her aid. Rye instinctively went for the throat, his jaws squeezing the flesh between his mouth together and within no time the bitter sweet liquid was oozing from the deer. The thrashing from the doe came to an end and victory was finally at their doorstep knocking with gifts in hand.

After Rye was absolute on the deers demise he removed his teeth and licked his maw of any remaining blood. At first, Rye was overjoyed with their successful hunt, on the edge of breaking out in celebration but he remembered Effies wound. Second thoughts rushed in and began burrowing their way into his conscious. Maybe he should've been the one to bring it down but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. "Effie," he nearly murmered, "How's your shoulder?" Rye wanted to comfort her, to withdraw any pain from her shoulder but he wasn't a medic, nor did he know how to properly comfort her but he would no doubt try. There was no lying to himself, he cared for Effie and seeing her injured certainly pulled on his heartstrings.