Morningside Cuesta skaiplei

Selfishly, he had taken the safer task. But he would execute it to the best of his abilities.

Hanze was a silent shadow after the first strike; nothing but the snap of the hunter’s teeth and his panting to alert them to his position. His tactics caused a peak level of confusion and panic in the herd as they fled, uncertain where the danger was.

The redspine’d wolf made a racket that further jarred the fleeing ungulates, and their escape became clumsy in a desperate attempt to find a path not plagued by wolves.

It had only taken the two of them.

From his point of view: suddenly, the herd cut back sharply to the left, sprinting along the cliff’s edge and out of danger. At first, he could not hear anything, but then, under the fading thunder of hooves, Hanze could faintly detect the shifting, clattering sounds of loosened rocks and dust falling down below. Had any deer gone with them?

He loped after the she-wolf, tongue lolling, eyes wide to see their work.