Kildeer Rest 'Zat you, Santa Claus?

A bit to her amazement, the caribou staggered, its hind legs buckling. It looked absurd, seated in the snow like that. But Towhee didn't have time for amusements. Her comrade dove for the animal's rump and she did the same. There was nothing quite like the feeling of her jaws taking hold of prey and sinking deep into living meat. It didn't happen often for her, so the Redhawk thrilled even as instinct compelled her to worry the bite, doing as much as damage as possible.

With two wolves weighing down its backside, the caribou tried but failed to regain all fours. Belatedly, it curved its head toward its rump. Towhee felt something sharp graze her and she instantly released, growling savagely as she sprang backward. She left a gaping wound, bleeding so heavily that it sprayed on the churned snow underfoot.

Licking her red teeth, Towhee waited for another opportunity to jump at the weakening animal, wondering if it was really possible she and her makeshift partner could fell this beast on their own (evens)? Or would the injured caribou eventually shake them off and run for its life after all (odds)?

Roll: 7