Great Bear Wilderness pale touch

His tongue lolled as he ran, adrenaline coursing through him with the excitement of the chase and the danger of the flailing limbs as he felt the air of them kicking so close to his maw. He was by no means a seeker of danger, but there was an undeniable thrill associated with the act of the hunt that had his heart pumping in the most carnal pleasure. He and his pal were working well in sync with each other, which brought another sense of pleasant success to their chase, even if it was to last for as long as it took for the doe to slow down.

But they were wolves, built for endurance in their very nature, and his legs were long and spry. The doe would surely tire before himself.

And tire she did, faltering in her movements after countless minutes of running, Henryk caught it and seized the opportunity to grab her leg in his jaws. Her gleet of terror shot through the fog that was now beginning to lift in the sun, tasting the irony tang of blood in his maw as his teeth tore the thin skin of the doe's hock. He clamped to damage as much as he could within the short span of a few seconds, releasing and leaping back before either that leg could jerk or the other one would surely attempt to knock him in the face.