Chimera Fields apollonius

He can hear it thundering closer. The sound of its strides is sharp. There is no real tempo to the way it moves, only an erratic stamping of hooves against stone against mud against clay, toes clawing at the dirt where it softens. Soon enough the deer is bursting across his path and Avicus is barking a new order to him — Kill!

The boy has already launched himself from cover and propels himself with a burst of desperation, devouring the ground with lengthy strides; his lack of muscle is a boon only in this moment, as he is lighter, flying for the path of the beast, reaching for its throat.

It makes a mistake when it spots him: unable to compensate for the new threat, the deer tries to turn its body and directs itself with the crook of its nose, its head raising in surprise. It is a small window of opportunity for the boy; he plunges for that soft neck, snapping once, twice, and catches the throat on the third try.

As the wolf collides with the deer chest-to-chest (or very nearly), Avicus slices at it from behind.