Bramblepoint caught herself a somewhere wind

he springs back just like alivia, narrowly missing having his head relocated to another zipcode by the moose's swinging horns.

glancing towards his companion, soto attempts to read her expression. was this a challenge for her, or was it too much? he himself had never brought down a moose, and the sheer enormity of the creature had him realizing he was quite small.

the deer of the plains never grew this big.

he flinches as the moose stumbles, giving it a wide berth. once recovered from being startled, soto realizes what alivia sees: the moose's fur is matted, and its gait uncoordinated. he sniffs the damp air but detects no recognizable scent; only a faint heat to the moose's musk.

soto has always been cautious. he steps back, nudging the shoulder of his hunting companion but unable to take his gaze from the moose. once enough distance has been put between them, soto moves off into a lope further down the creek.

long ago, he'd learned the merits of avoiding eating sickly meat.