Dawnlark Plains LXXIII

He was so caught up in trying to shadow Ulfhedinn, he didn’t even realize what exactly they were trying to do. At some point, it clicked: they were driving a single target away from the main herd. Almost as soon as he comprehended the task at hand, the more experienced hunter barked and fell back.

Cambria didn’t slow at first, looking backward in confusion. Why had Ulfhedinn slowed? He finally did the same, his confusion mounting as his pace slackened. He breathed hard, glancing between the hunt leader and the caribou as it galloped ahead.

Now Ulfhedinn jerked his head. Cambria ground to a halt. Ulfhedinn bolted past him and, once more, the yearling found himself in the others’ dust. He clenched his teeth and raced after them, swallowing his frustration. There wasn’t time for that right now.

Instead of looking to the white male for guidance, Cambria decided to lean into his untapped instincts. He peeled off to the left side of the caribou, simply keeping an eye on it as they ran. He had never chased anything so large. He supposed they needed to slow it down by injuring it, though the yearling wasn’t sure how to do that without getting himself killed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ulfhedinn lunge at the caribou’s other side. The scent of blood hit Cambria’s nose. His chest rumbled, though he still didn’t know just how to land his own blow without getting kicked. He snapped his teeth on thin air.