Neverwinter Forest My poor heart grows a hole

Pangur kept quiet, her movements methodical, pawpads carefully placed to avoid the crunching of snow or snapping of twigs, even if her gait was a little awkward. She waited for Eydis' signal, creeping as close as she could without alerting the deer to her presence. 

An adolescent fat from summer grazing was shoveling snow out of the way with its face, digging to get to the precious green beneath—occupied. Sentinel mother stood nearby, her ears round and alert. Pangur looked to Eydis for her decision; which would be their target today. 

The decision would have to be quick, mother doe looked increasingly uneasy.