Chimera Fields Tongues and teeth

Few times had Pangur felled elk; it was a trick of fate each time she had gotten to enioy the spoils of a calf brought to earth by her own jaws, the rest, times she'd hunted among the ranks of others. The meat was rich, the taste as if it was made for wolf tongue.

Yet, she had also seen good hunters find themselves gored, some hunted with their gods now, when nothing could've been done to remedy their condition. A thread of fate drawn between predator and prey, their souls were long intertwined before their feet ever met the snow of this meadow. Whose thread would be cut this day, hunter, or hunted?

But! Pangur felt great confidence, it was in the wind, whistling its approval for their task, in the sky that opened up before them, cloudless and bright. She gave a nod, straightening her posture and looking to the thickening of tracks that began into the fields. We must move quick t'en, they will not wait for us. the announcement came with a dismissive flick of her tail and a giddy laugh on her breath, haunches rose from ground to begin the age old dance, welded into their very being.

Old would feed more than young, she decided. A circle come to full completion.