Wapun Meadow in the way you're walking,

tvar watches her move, eyes fixed on her as she circles the deer with a grace he can only admire. her command of the hunt, her poise, her precision—it’s mesmerizing. he follows her lead and his muscles coil with anticipation. there’s a quiet pride in the way he lets her take control, a satisfaction in seeing her words to him reflected in their movements now.

he’s aware of the way her tail flags. he feels the tension in the air as the deer falters, its strength waning under the relentless pursuit. the moment is close, and tvar’s focus sharpens, the rest of the world falling away until only the hunt remains. when the deer rears, its panic a desperate final act, tvar sees her dart in, swift and sure, latching onto its leg like a piranha. her tail wags high and fast, a signal he doesn’t hesitate to heed.

he surges forward, his larger frame moving with power and purpose, jaws parting as he aims for the deer’s exposed shoulder. his teeth sink into its flesh, and the taste of blood fills his mouth as he clamps down. the deer struggles beneath them, its cries piercing the cold air, but it’s a fight that won’t last long. tvar feels the strength of her grip, the way she holds the deer steady, and it fuels his own resolve. he adjusts his position, unhinging jaws only to snap teeth back over its neck, bracing his weight against the animal, forcing it down, its legs buckling beneath the combined force of their attack.