The Floodlands But I don’t get out much these days

Fortune, it seemed, was on their side that day. She and Eljay managed to keep the beast in one place, flanking it on either side, but Niamh kept Colt in her peripheral vision, so she could continue to keep the moose from side-stepping while her man went for the kill. The little bit of life the moose had left wasn’t enough to help it get away from the hungry wolves, and warm blood spattered down Colt’s front as he tore loose a section of the moose’s throat. 

There wasn’t anything left to do then, as the moose would easily die on its own without being able to stagger far away from them. In the meantime, Niamh gave a bark to Wildfire to invite her over and she moved to Colt’s side, licking his bloodstained cheek. Giddy with delight at the prospect of a large meal, she whispered in his ear something more or less borrowed from one of the silliest country tunes. ”Later, we’re gonna have to check each other for ticks.” She said playfully, and licked the bridge of his nose. She watched as the moose slowly sank to its knees, and then flopped onto its side. She gave Eljay a wink and an appreciative nod. ”Dinner time!” She said, gesturing for he two higher ranked wolves to eat first. Meanwhile, she set about helping Colt get himself clean as an appetizer.