Qeya River because we are animals,

hunting #3 (I think) @Wintersbane @Iana @Rye (also @Garland and @Tzila if they're already at DFG as well.) but AW for anyone trying to scavenge as well.

The morning dawned silver and still, the last vestiges of winter clinging to the snow-peaked summits ringing the Glacier. The mists clung too to the dark, shaggy silhouettes of the pines and hardwoods as Imaq slipped from her den and wound her way down into the foothills south of Wintersbane's claim. Meltwater had spilled down the mountainside, out of the glacier and into the frosty depths of the Qeya -- which was more like Sedna's seas than the oceans that brought the shepherd to this land. 

The golden dove padded carefully to the water's edge, stopping to test the ice in questionable spots before placing her weight down fully, and bent to take an icy drink. When she straightened, she noticed the fresh tracks broken into the crust of ice and frost around the River's banks. They belonged to a larger animal, a grazer of some kind, but it was hard to tell what kind since the hoofprints were erratic and smeared -- tinged a faint pink with ruby droplets of blood.

Lowering her spotted snout, the wolfdog set off after the cold, faded trail, following it as it wound east across the tundras. The bighorn sheep had a fair head start but Imaq could see what had caused its faltering footsteps as she caught sight of it, a severely broken ankle -- caused by a tumble down the icy summits of the Glacier perhaps. 

The creature was worn and ragged with blood loss but it stumbled on with renewed vigor when it became aware of the huntress, who was not shy about chasing alongside the sheep ewe at an easy pace -- far enough away that she could dodge any desperate kicks or sweeping horns. Now and again, she dove in to snap at the creature's ankles or underbelly until at last it tripped trying to sidestep her nipping teeth. 

It was tangled up by its own wounded limbs and Imaq was quick to scramble up onto the fallen sheep's prone form, pouncing onto its shoulders and sinking her fangs into the side of its neck -- wedging her own head up under the ewe's horns where she couldn't get gored. The sheep bleated and threw herself backwards in one last panicked throe, rolling over the shepherd. It was agony but the position pinned her in place and even forced her incisors to sink in deeper. The grazer struggled for another moment as blood spilled over the shaman's jaws and throat before it finally fell still. 

Imaq held on for another prolonged minute, waiting to make sure the ungulate was truly slain before she heaved herself out from beneath the heavy dead weight of the ewe's neck and shoulders. Panting, blood-soaked, and swaying a little bit, the golden girl merely stared at her trophy in shock before realizing that she wasn't sure how to get it back to the Glacier. 

She coughed, grimaced and winced at the pain that shot through her, and then let loose with a raspy howl to call the other members that had flocked to Wintersbane's arctic kingdom -- hoping they might come help her section the ewe into pieces for easy transportation and storage. She spat a mouthful of blood onto the snowy ground, her own or the sheep's she couldn't be sure, and then began to rip at the wound she'd left in the ewe's neck with the intentions of skinning as much of the pelt off in once piece as she could.