King Elk Forest Kinda Queasy on the Red Ones

The hunter's retort was met with ease, something practiced like the patience a King should have, though Calhoun would still resort to rolling his eyes as he focused on his prey. It was a mystery what brought the lone creature through their woods, though unlike his cousin's train of thought, his actually had nothing to do with the high elk for once. While the encounter may be a blessing from their God, Calhoun saw the event more so as a stroke of luck, one in his favor and against the doe's.

Celnes settled in next to him, eagerly watching along until Calhoun seemed pleased with its distracted state as it's great neck lowered to the earth to feast its last meal. Without a word, the baron playfully shoved against his cousin's shoulder, a grin on his face as he emerged from the undergrowth, slow at first as he slunk before speeding along silently hoping his steps wouldn't be noticed until it was far too late for his prey to run. Lucky for him, it seemed that things would go exactly as he hoped. Rather Celnes followed or not at his heels was little concern to him, so long as she emerged eventually to help down the deer.

Until her help, however, he would need to slow the doe before it had the chance to speed away. In its startling state, the doe scampered, too startled to run straight at first allowing the hunter's fangs to shoot out, and graze along with the creature's hindquarters. Unfortunately, his grip simply ripped a gash as opposed to grabbing hold of the fleeing doe. Calhoun growled, his tongue flicking out to wipe the blood from his maw as he was quick to follow, not once missing a beat even as the doe slipped from his grasp. Unless Celnes intervened first, he would lunge again, once more grabbing for a leg or hindquarter.