Neverwinter Forest River, O River

Luhtar surged forward the moment Y’var’la’s jaws found purchase, his powerful frame closing the distance with a purposeful stride. The deer’s desperate thrashing sent dirt and moss scattering, its hooves striking blindly at the air. He growled low in his throat, a guttural sound that carried both approval and focus as he moved in to finish the job.

With a calculated leap, Luhtar lunged for the deer’s hindquarters, his jaws locking firmly onto the sinewy flesh just above the joint. His weight dragged the struggling creature further off balance, its legs buckling beneath the combined assault. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and adrenaline, the thudding of the deer’s heart palpable as its movements began to slow.

Luhtar adjusted his grip, powerful jaws clamping down harder as he anchored himself against its resistance. “Almost,” he growled, his muscles straining as the deer’s strength waned. He felt the tension in its body falter, its kicks becoming weaker, more frantic, until they finally stilled.

Luhtar released his hold, stepping back to let Y’var’la maintain her grip until she was sure it was done. His yellow eyes flicked to her briefly, a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his gaze.

“Good strike,” he said, his voice rough but genuine. He shook out his fur, dislodging bits of moss and dirt clinging to his frame, and gave her an approving nod. “Deer not easy. You move fast. Precise.”