Silverlight Terrace Pisok

The last time Mojag had hunted with others like this was upon a beach, and it had not been with those seasoned by years of training, but with a priest and his acolyte; it had been very dangerous, and Mojag had been foolish. He would not be so hasty to prove himself here — fast, yes, and using his body as a bulwark to ward the splitting bodies one way or another, but he would not insert himself for fear of the stag's crown or the doe elk's tines. He would not race ahead half-cocked and require a rescue.

He would be at the head, for a few lunges, but then would be overtaken by both Kannoyak and Chakliux; and as he sidled one way, he saw Sialuk, and bayed a sound to startle the old doe which the group had targeted. Mojag's dark body moved across the snow in an obvious arc. He would be easier for the prey to track, being dark on light, and he used that to his advantage as much as possible.

They were all skilled and proven, he knew. This was his chance to show off what he'd learned and he would not waste it.