Duskfire Glacier widowsnest

the herd stands unmoving for a beat. they funnel around their bull, who snorts and stamps its hoof. a tremble that's felt beneath paws, but is welcomed by a snarl. they shift, uneasy, but do not flee so long their lead stay put. 

iosef would throw himself at the bull's throat, should he need. he'd barrel into its side, snap and lunge atop its back. but keshka has given him orders and like a good soldier, he obeys. his smirk is sharp, his eyes even sharper as she sprints ahead. far faster and more graceful than he. 

shamelessly, his eyes follow her figure. the curves and outlines of muscle. it's almost more enticing than the hunt itself, and he is only but a man. but he doesn't leer for long. the bull moves, followed by its cows. 

he charges forth with a growl that's ripped from the depths of his lungs. crashing against the bull's broad side, causing it to falter for a moment. pushing it away from the cows and off into its own path towards death. he snaps at its sides, his legs, but careful to stay clear of any kicks it might throw.