Broken Antler Fen a whistler and her gun

She would not stop until the strange beast ceased to exist. Sending a prayer to the gods of hunt, Zola leapt. More or less throwing herself onto the back of the pronghorn, she let her weight crush the beast. It bayed once, stumbling to the earth with her claws digging into its back.

Holding it in place, Zola shifted to look at the dark female. Though there was some blood pooling around her paws, the beast still struggled. She felt the woman had the right to kill it; for she had gotten there first. Wild eyes stared at both wolves from below, the rise and fall of a flank...