Sawtooth Spire illumination

she did not live this long by chance. tensing at the clatter of hooves and the sharp report of hind limb sailing past, moro grunted as hoof met her haunch and forced her to recalibrate landing among the mossy stones.

by the time the red stallion's hard-flung hoof thudded over broken rock, moro alighted the fallen bough of a nearby beech.

she scented the air; blood, iron, rich sweat and the sour tinge of adrenaline.

stretching in the insouciant manner only a cat was capable of, moro's long claws sunk into the corroded bark, lifting the tree's skin and letting it clatter noisily to the stones.

they flanked one another, their bodies powerful and too prohibitive for her to come within range.

smart.

but moro was infinitely patient, and her quarry wounded besides.

she sunk to her stomach, conserving energy. moro intended for a full belly tonight.