Hideaway Strath If it wasn't for bad luck...

Thank you so much! This last post will count towards my trade! 
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Wolves don’t have sharp teeth and the instinct to kill for no reason. This is an example of such. It’s completely natural for them to want to kill things and this poor, but strong, doe is the result of that dangerous ferocity. Though she probably excelled in strength out of her herd, she does not stand any chance against two born to be predators. This shows in the expert way they traced her down, sunk teeth into subtle flesh, and took her to the ground.

So as the thrill of the hunt pumps blood through his veins with the heavy thrum of his heart, his adrenaline won’t disappear until this doe stops moving once and for all. This time, he plans on ending it. Though the female beside him has a much crucial grip on her, that doesn’t mean he can’t help. 

So he releases her leg, dropping the bloody limb and tip toeing closer to the blackbird. His golden orbs rake over her form with excitement as he steps over the animal and snatches up the back of the deers neck while his partner has the throat. With an expectant look to those icy blues he begins to shake and tug. A silent permission to kill her once and for all. Surely once they begin pulling her neck will snap and her watery eyes become dull and glasslike. She’s dead.

Only then can he rest. So he does. Lifting his head from her neck and lapping an oddly colored black tongue over his lips, nose, and whiskers. Then with a smirk he looks to his companion. “That was impressive. You’re good at hunting, dear.” Then he moves to step off of the deer. “Shall we dig in?” He asks and he hardly waits for her reply before he’s grabbing at the soft muscle of her shoulder and ripping it off to swallow.