Shy Deer Steppes vezhof

his interest was as utilitarian as any wolf: he needed something in his belly whether it was fresh or it was rotted, it only needed to be consumed. as the wolf sought the antelope's curved belly and his teeth went for the opening through the haze of flies, he caught sight of something else.

a small shape. canine, maybe. his mind went immediately to the coyotes of the lower desert; the number of times drusk had harassed the families of the Mountain, and seen their children scatter, brought to mind such small, easily targeted things.

what was that opinion about fresh vs fallen? scratch that. fresh was better.

he moved to lunge around the carcass after the small thing, pushing off of the soil and making a straight-line charge towards what he thought could've been a child, or a coyote, but either way it was going to be his lunch.