Blacktail Deer Plateau the witching hour

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he returned her enthusiasm with a low chuckle, then began a slow stalk toward the young goats he had spotted. they were guarded of course by an older member of their species, an ewe with a sour expression, and their wooled odor caused hunger to rear in his gut.

he motioned to finley -- they would move in a pincer movement to catch the smaller of the kids, a spotted coat pelting it -- and hopefully avoid the butting poll of the old ewe.

silently, he awaited the proper moment.