Hideaway Strath That's All Right, I Love The Way It Hurts

They targeted the fattest one they could see.
Derg blinked in mostly disbelief. Really?
That one?

He clenched his teeth together. They would have to learn themselves.
He was only once a birdcatcher, but that didn't mean he had no knowledge of ungulates. Even so, Nyra pointed out that this doe was likely to give then as harder time as a stag -- and still they went for it.
He was about to open his mouth to talk them out of it.

But they were gone.
Fine.
He bristled and followed ​Hemlocke who was also tasked with running the herd.
This could end in...disaster. All he could vision was hooves caving in skulls, stags coming through to trample them and crack their ribs through their skin.
He kept a wide berth around the elk ar they started to run from the hunting party. 
Fuck this. Hooves were already flying.

He singled out a lame doe, mud clumped all up to her neck. She must have been stuck in a bog and managed to get out, but not unscathed.
He wondered if they would take the easy, sensible option. You shouldn't kill the pregnant ones -- where will the herd be next year if you did?