The Heartwood Slowly tears you apart

As soon as Solharr leapt from cover for the buck, Kigipigak was charging for his own attack. The buck had a suitable response to the arrival of a wolf's teeth in its flank: shock, terror, and the vital need to escape. Fortunately the two hunters were wise enough to place themselves in a pincer-like angle with the buck in the middle; so when the buck did try to plunge away from one wolf and through the ferns, it was met only by the white mass of Kigipigak who was abruptly right there, causing the buck to stop, and rear up, and practically lose its footing with the weight of Solharr on the one side.

Kigipigak ducked and wove to one side, not wanting a hoof to the face. As the buck staggered one way, the hunter aimed for an exposed cache of flesh along its ribbed side and scored it with his teeth. Solharr was pulling, presumably; Kigipigak would snap and rend at the living flesh while it was possible to reach it. In what felt like a flash—the buck had hit the dirt and stomped its way upright again, swinging its head wildly—either in search of safe harbor or to brandish those tines in defense of itself.

With a snarl Kigipigak moved to flank it on the other side, and it struggled to keep itself aligned with the white shape of the wolf, while also trying to struggle free of the shadow gripping it. The sounds of struggle filled the grove and the admixture of musk, blood, and fear soon dominated the area as the struggle persisted.