Herbalists' Cache LXV

The throat was open.  Ulfhedinn hung, his weight offering opportunity.  Redd did not often take the kill;  Wealda did not hesitate.

She added her fangs to tear, latching on and pulling the cow further to its knees.  The last bellow was left caught in its lungs as she refused to loosen hold, depriving it of air as its life blood ran rivulets down her chest.

It was too clumsy in its death throes to shake them.  The hunt was finished as the others came to claim their meal.  She could have left off, knowing this, but instead Wealda maintained her grip until she felt the pulse die between her teeth, growling with quiet anticipation until all danger was gone. She would not forget.