Broken Antler Fen a whistler and her gun

It happened all so fast. The two other pronghorns bolted for the distance, long gone and too quick for the females to even consider catching up. Both of the escapees were the sturdier, stronger of the trio. The one who was left in the literal dust of the two was the weaker but Zsuzsa wasn’t picky in this situation; anything was better than nothing. This was much better than the vermin diet she sustained for months before the colder season.
 
The other female took one side of the pronghorn, snapping at its flank. Zsuzsa rushed up from behind, snapping hungrily at its hind legs. This pronghorn may have been the weaker of the three, but it was certainly fast. The Acolyte put forth all her energy to attempt to run equally by its side so it could get a better bite and hold. The other female definitely seemed seasoned running long distances at a quick pace.