Duskfire Glacier [m] Tshärr

She follows Skorpa’s attention to the treeline with a stilling of everything but pulse and breath. Far ahead there is a weighty disturbance in the bracken and her spirits quiver. Ayovi’s brows lift as she regards the bear-hunter, his reaction seemingly altogether different from her’s. Gone is that redolent humor, castling stone in the eyes and mouth of the man. She’d have contemplated this further if windborn wounds did not rouse her deep hunger, stalling for a moment baser appetites so long as she had the scuffle of tracks to follow.
A nose returns to the blood-trail. If they are quick, they’ll ambush a few bites before the creature can gain proper footing. With a signal of intention to Skorpa, she shoots forward, body a crouched streamline to devour distance in short, silent strides. The beast in the trees is enormous, a vast shape that lumbers along the bottom of the duff, movements slowed by the drag of an injured limb.
Ayovi gives tongue and teeth like a mountain cat, blitzing a latch to the nape and tearing her head to open skin and score muscle. The creature resists, kicking sheets of snow and mud from beneath hooves, dislodging it’s pursuers and rapidly drawing away, tundra hide fading into the dark depths of the woodland ahead of them.