Chimera Fields Tongues and teeth

sólhárr followed pangur's lead, his large frame moving with a quiet grace that belied his size. his single golden eye scanned the meadow ahead, the tracks weaving a story of a herd that had passed through not long ago. the ground was marked with the deep impressions of hooves, the scent of elk strong in the air.

quick, aye, he murmured under his breath, his gaze sharp and focused. he relished the thrill of the hunt, the way it called to something ancient and primal within him. yet, he knew the risks well—he had seen hunters fall, their threads severed by the very creatures they sought. but he had also seen the triumph, the way a successful hunt could feed not only the body but the spirit of a pack.

he stayed close to pangur, letting her set the pace, his movements steady and deliberate. as they neared the edge of the field, his ears swiveled forward, catching the faint rustle of movement ahead. the herd was near. he nodded toward the tracks, a silent confirmation of their path, and lowered his head slightly, ready to move in tandem with his companion.

the hunt had begun.