Moonspear teeth-grinder

o:

Her late-afternoon border patrol was readily abandoned the second she got whiff of it. A haphazard trail of blood had brought her this far, and above her opened a more sparse stretch of the mountain which only served to frame the focus here -- an adult male bighorn sheep.

Beside the distinct curve of his impressive horns (to which her knee-jerk response was along the lines of 'I want it..'), she noticed his limp and the ugly wound staining his shoulder instantly. He was impressive, but on the backend of his prime. She saw the muscle wasting, the bumps of his ribs, and the old scars stretched thin as he picked his way across a spell of loosened gravel. While life had humored him for so long, he was a testament to the trials of the season, and had come out a loser at the end of their rut's height.

Ame did not recognize him in particular .. not that she could claim to know all the sheep personally on a mountain she had just laid claim to. He may have been fleeing from elsewhere, or it may not have been his own kind to deal the blows he bore.

Instinct coiled at the sight and feeling wily, she tracked after him immediately despite being no threat by herself -- well, unless his injuries dropped him dead alone. Soon, she raised her nose in a short, soft howl to see who else may be in the area to address this with her. In response, he picked up the pace some. She carefully lurked along from the bottom of the nearest slope to keep him in her sights.. just in case.