Dawnlark Plains Hungry, hungry

Her snarl was met with a sympathetic wag of his tail, hung low between his legs. While her anger was justified, her temper was not, and Randolf did not understand her fury. "It was my mistake," he apologised simply, stepping boldly towards the bristling white woman. But while he seemed attentive of her, his gaze fell beyond to where the herd had disappeared. They could not have run far.

Nodding curtly, he acknowledged her request with a grunt and examined the deer tracks nearby. The elderly doe had followed, but slowly. If they left now, there was a chance they could catch her before she reunited with the others.

Taking a few experimental steps, he glanced back to gage the woman's reaction. Would she follow, or would she lead?