November 05, 2020, 10:48 AM
wintersbane reaches near the stag’s location, polar gaze trailing over the three doe grazing in the nearby meadow of tall and dying grasses as he slows, crouching in the bed of browning heather grasses to study them, peering over the soft sway in search of the stag. it’s scent is strong here; a heavy musk that tells the tundrian it cannot not be too far.
indeed, it’s not. a low growl rumbles in his throat as, spooked, the stag comes tearing out of a thicket of trees — some untouched by the fires — towards the doe who take off after him, deeper into the sentinel’s heartlands. his head snaps in the direction the stag had come barreling out of and prowls in that direction.
he lets out a bark in an effort to garner the attention of the shadow pelaged wolf lurking across the way. there was no use in being discreet now, now that the herd was aware that they were being stalked by not just one but two predators. nevertheless, wintersbane cannot help the building possessiveness brewing beneath his skin. he would not have strangers traipsing thru the sentinels spooking, nor chasing off his herds.
nevertheless, wintersbane knows he’ll have to avoid the area and lay low for a while until the stag rebuilds his assurance that he and his doe were still safe there... else he'll have to track them to their new spot in the sentinels. it was easier to keep track of them when they stayed in one specific area, easier yet to map out how best to hunt them, too when that time came.
indeed, it’s not. a low growl rumbles in his throat as, spooked, the stag comes tearing out of a thicket of trees — some untouched by the fires — towards the doe who take off after him, deeper into the sentinel’s heartlands. his head snaps in the direction the stag had come barreling out of and prowls in that direction.
he lets out a bark in an effort to garner the attention of the shadow pelaged wolf lurking across the way. there was no use in being discreet now, now that the herd was aware that they were being stalked by not just one but two predators. nevertheless, wintersbane cannot help the building possessiveness brewing beneath his skin. he would not have strangers traipsing thru the sentinels spooking, nor chasing off his herds.
nevertheless, wintersbane knows he’ll have to avoid the area and lay low for a while until the stag rebuilds his assurance that he and his doe were still safe there... else he'll have to track them to their new spot in the sentinels. it was easier to keep track of them when they stayed in one specific area, easier yet to map out how best to hunt them, too when that time came.
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Messages In This Thread
the things that we bury - by RIP Wintersbane - November 05, 2020, 09:01 AM
RE: the things that we bury - by Draven - November 05, 2020, 09:29 AM
RE: the things that we bury - by RIP Wintersbane - November 05, 2020, 10:48 AM