King Elk Forest the sun goes down

Piety liked when Neven put her nose to the ground. It meant she was all business and, more importantly, it meant she wasn't talking. The Montserrat followed her closely -- loyally -- and trusted her to take them right where they needed to be.

Though, at first, it had been a strain on Piety to endure Neven's company, they had become quite close in the weeks since hotfooting it away from the territory of Kethis, and he found her to be a steadfast confidant -- for all her bravado and grandstanding.

He understood where her need to stand out came from: a lifetime of working twice as hard only to get none of the recognition she deserved from her peers. Despite being a half-breed, she hunted as good as the rest of them and kept up just as well. He had never understood the pack's othering of her, and didn't care to know by now.

The rain started to come down harder, but it wasn't long before the wet trails they followed began to freshen and strengthen; leading them unto a well-protected meadow that housed a large herd of doe, their very young children, and a single stag to oversee them all. Surrounded by bushes, it would be difficult to approach the herd without making too much noise, but the sound of a hard rain muffled their steps, and they wouldn't need to do much sneaking besides.

Fawns, especially the newborns, were prone to be curled up and concealed in the tall grass instead of accompanying their mothers to forage. Rooting one out didn't sound like too much of a task. Piety prowled about and looked out into the crowd of rain-soaked browsers, only hoping to spot an appropriate target before chasing the herd away.