Frostfire Ridge goat simulator

the wind shifts, carrying the musky scent of their quarry, and her lips pull back slightly, breath steady, measured. close.

when he signals, she is already anticipating, muscles coiled beneath her sleek frame, waiting. then—movement. blackfell lunges, and she follows without hesitation, cutting off the goat’s escape.

the creature bolts, scrambling over the slick stone, but she is there, swift and unyielding, blocking its path. no way out.

a snarl rumbles in her throat as she snaps toward its flank, forcing it into blackfell’s waiting jaws.