Dawnlark Plains Hungry, hungry

The forest grew still as he waited with baited breath amongst the trees. It was as if it knew something was amiss and held its breath until a growl pierced the quiet. 

Birds erupted from the trees in a cacophony of noise and the northman stiffened instinctually, ears swivelling to catch the approaching drumming of hoofbeats on hard ground. His chest rose and fell steadily, the calm before the storm as the figures of both hunter and prey soon came into view.

Cut her off!

Randolf did not need to be told twice. Already his legs churned to intercept the doe as she staggered again, teeth aimed for her neck. It lit a fire in his belly to fight alongside another, and even as a panicked hoof grazed his shoulder he soldiered on. This was what he was trained for. Jaws tightened around her jugular as she thrashed for the last time before sinking to the earth in jaded defeat.