Iktome Plains I Used to Roll the Dice...

Meylodi ran after Meph as thunderous as a distant storm.

She could already taste their prey, the thought driving her forward. Each stride brought the she-wolf closer in a rhythm that she quickly lost herself in. The ground her paws propelled her on was rocky but firm enough, lined with grass that softened her steps. 

The deer scattered when their watchful stag gave warning. Their protector seemed unsure of himself, as if he had never had an attack on his herd before. He faltered, choosing to run instead of fight the threat, and that momentary hesitation and choosing his life over the lives of the fawns would, with luck, lead to a successful hunt.