Moonspear no, we don't hide when it rains now

All four wolves sped after the mature doe.

Njord’s keen gaze watched the dueling wolves close in on their target. Alaric on the far side. Then, a flash of Slaney’s teeth draws the elder’s eye. His ear perk, hopeful, but the deer bucks and liberates itself from the man’s grip.

Though Njord’s injuries had whittled his strength and speed, he held the flank with Seal.

He turned to his daughter. “Hold this line, mo nighean,” the father instructed. Then, he peeled away and mustered a small burst of speed. Pain rankled his knee, his hip, but the Elder grit his teeth through the sharp ache.

He intercepted the doe with a snap of his teeth, growling and slavering. He was not in a position to attack, but Njord’s goal was not to draw blood. No - it was to distract the creature and force it to change direction. A window of opportunity for the other two hunters to pounce.