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

Alas, despite the hiccups of it all, the three wolves were victorious. With the young elk down, Hemlocke's head remained low, muzzle buried in the throat of the creature, feeling her pulse against the inside of his mouth, her heavy and hot breath in his ear slowing more and more. Large pointed ears would perk at the sound of Donovan, who had been struck by a hard hoof and strong leg. He remained holding, despite a kick from such an animal being able to shatter bone on impact if hitting right.

When Nyra's song of celebration is released, he so does release, knowing with certainty it is over with. The hellhound too lifts up his boxy muzzle, calling out both in celebration and for the remainder of their ranks to come and enjoy the spoils.

Finishing his sound, deep and melancholy tones, he backs up and sits, panting and offering room to his higher authorities to feed first. Hemlocke is caught off guard by Derg's touch, as Locke had been accessing Donovan's own shoulder from afar. His body tenses naturally to the touch but then he eases and offers a small smile. Leathery black nose would touch and sniff at the base of the man's torn ear, an equal silence of acceptance to his plea.