Redsand Canyon Please fill up my soul [Pack Hunt]

Donovan likes watching his pack work together so well. It fills his breast with pride. There’s not enough time to dwell on it for now. They have a hunt to begin.

He’s silent even though the tell tail beating of his heart is making him want to pace back and forth. Planning is necessary but he wants to get this shit on the road. When Derg is finally trotting off Donovan is too quick to follow, taking a spot beside him.

They trot no longer, rather the team moves into a sprint, eager to catch up to the horned ungulates. They’re squeezing the animals together, herding them. His tongue is quick to drop from his maw to hang freely as he runs, massive paws kicking up dirt. He’s got his eyes on the prize and he’s got a solid meter or two between him and the herd.

A quick movement and a plume of dust picks up and he’s watching a pronghorn kick Derg into the next century. He’s worried when the other going skidding to the ground, slowing momentarily to watch him — help him if necessary. The man is strong and he’s back up in an instant. A smirk comes to Donovan’s maw at the male, knowing he’s okay or at least we’ll enough to continue. With his worry gone, he’s running towards the herd with vigor. Assisting in keeping them together, possibly tire them out.