Honeyed Pasture trek along?

The waver of their paths made him stumble over his paws until he had warily gotten an understanding for how she moved - more akin to a carnivorous sparrow than a wolf, fluttering at any given change; but not to flee it, to meet it. Which was a curious and dangerous inclination in itself, Galen marveled.

Any pauses she made he echoed her silence, patient eyes and ears scanning around them - not wanting to help her leap before she looked. They could have stopped a hundred times, and he would await without a sound. Any changes to the tracks he took her assessment for it, sparing them only a glance and sniff before he was following. At the very least, he couldn't be blamed for leading them astray.

Galen's self-humored smile faltered as she murmured to him, to which he responded with an almost inaudible hum. He was reminded now, as he tried to keep himself low and quiet, how much his golden coat contrasted against the pure snow, as well as how long it had been since he had hunted a deer truly.

The instant Pangur was off, he didn't hesitate on her lead - loping through snow after but a moment, and taking full advantage of the path she had already cut over the hill's peak. He caught the shape of her checking the buck, watching its long branch-like legs stumble and turn - Galen was quick to adjust, snapping out his path, thanking the grasses for the way they resisted the snow, allowing him to mix his silhouette against the white. The deer was already too disoriented to notice his hurried steps, a credit to Pangur where she harassed it. He could already see its pace flagging, and the moment it crossed his self-decided mark, he broke into a run, readying to bunch up and leap for its hind. He would prefer for them both, that he didn't screw up and leave them at a game of chewing legs.