Overture Downs ✢ Tipvigut

AW!

the wind was sharp, biting at the exposed skin of his nose as he prowled forward, low and deliberate. ahead, the herd moved in slow waves, their breath curling in the early morning air like ghosts retreating from their slumber.
coväh's ears flicked forward, his eyes sharp with intent. the elk were moving toward the tree line, their hooves crunching softly over frost-bitten ground. he had been tracking them since dawn, shadowing their path, waiting for the moment when opportunity would present itself.
they were fat from a long summer, thick with the weight of survival. a good kill here would mean more than just a full belly—it would mean trade, favor, security. he could already taste it on his tongue.
his muscles coiled beneath his sleek coat as he skirted the edge of the clearing, keeping himself downwind. his breath was steady, measured, his movements precise. there was no room for error.
golden eyes flickered from one elk to another, seeking weakness. an old bull, scarred and slower than the rest. a limping cow, favoring one of her hind legs. he clicked his tongue against his teeth, thoughtful.