chase

Nefarious could hunt well enough to keep himself sustained, and to fill the caches when he noticed that the one closest to his den site was getting particularly low but he had never considered himself much of a hunter beyond what nature deemed was norm for his species. He did not suck at it, but he did not particularly excel at it either, neither did he ever consider it as a potential trade for himself. His focus had always been on 'Healer' or 'Medic' as it'd been called in Akkuma. The part that Atka reigned over within the neutral shaman yearned to heal, while Sos' domain within Nefarious deigned to hurt and in some cases kill with poisons. What healed you in small doses could kill you in large doses. Life had a tendency of being ironic like that. Nefarious' pumpkin gaze followed the woman as she took off, taking the lead whether because she'd seen his gesture or because she was irritated and tired of waiting for him. Smoldering gaze watched her with an absence as she managed to fling herself on her target's back and managed to get bucked off.

It was then that the shaman leapt forth to join her, snapping at it's heels while carefully trying to avoid being kicked by it. It's wool was thick due to it's feral life, meaning that it's throat would have it protecting it as nature's padding. For now, Nefarious hung back from going for it's neck, content with snapping at it's heels, watching it's weakened leg — that which gave it it's slight limp — attempting to strategist when he would attack it.