Dawnlark Plains this isn't like swimming after you eat.

The stranger's response was uncertion, which made Penn chuckle. He supposed not all wolves were as daring as he was. That suited him just fine. He liked being unique amongst his kind. He did kind of wonder when the uhhh suddenly hit a caps lock pitch. He stopped smiling and canted his head, wondering what that was about. Coupled with the expression on his face, it was almost as if Penn was about to get fucked.

The yearling looked back over his shoulder to confirm that he was indeed about to get fucked.

With a yelp, he shot forward. There were only a few yards left separating himself from the buck by the time he sprang, and so he wasn't able to get too far before he was nearly overtaken. In an act of blind desperation, Penn flung himself to the left and rolled, keeping close to the ground. He felt a woosh of air fly across his fur and the hard scrape of a tine against his side. He yelped again, but was up on his feet and running while the stag attempted to stop and turn to gore him some more.

Penn ran for his life now, more distance between himself at the stag but blood thickening in his silver fur. He barely even noticed, determined as he was to get away. The stag was more stubborn this time, unwilling to give up the chase so easily now that it had gotten first blood. Which, I mean, it had a right. Penn was really being a dick.