Hideaway Strath If it wasn't for bad luck...

She had long ago left her birth family behind, what was left of them anyway, never had she taken up residence with a pack of any type, most packs had a presence about them she despised, no group of wolves needed to be that chummy and peaceful and carefree with neighbours, She almost sneered in disgust at the thought of the goody goody packs of wolves she had seen so far.
Wolves had power, they were apex they should own what was theirs; A pack should hold their territory and on lives upon it, prey and predator alike, with the fierce power they had at their disposal.

She was used to hunting alone, Which meant getting in close, looking in the eye of her prey before taking the life from them, she was unprepared as the male sprang forward, she envied his brute strength as he connected with the deer. This one was dead, it just just know it yet. She lunged along side him and tried his tactic, leaping at the deer with abandon. It quickly became apparent that this was not her style and this tactic was foreign to her.

Though Kynareth Deagon had connected with the creature it’s forward momentum did not stop right away, unskilled at hunting with others and unused to these tactic’s she had lunged at the deer connecting with it’s shoulder and tearing flesh but her hold was not strong enough. She had not soundly picked her mark as she had charged having followed him in without thought. She caught more bone then flesh and could not grip the animal, though slowed the forward momentum of the deer was not stopped right away and with the missed connection the deer ran her down.

She tumbled below it’s front hooves, not wanting to interfere with the hold he had, she tucked herself into a small ball getting to the far side of the deer and though it’s back hoof connected with her body it did little harm as it slid on her form, and she had gotten far enough under then out that she had not gotten under Kynareth Deagon or interfered with his hold. She did, however unexpectedly, trip up the deer further sending it sprawling across the ground with a large wolf to pin it’s hind end.

Once free from the deer albeit on the far side from him, She sprang up, her white teeth, catching the moon light, were bared in anger, the opposing color of her teeth to her dark pelt that made her hard to see against the tree and shrubs behind her; Her maw seem like a floating entity of death. Seething at her own incompetence, she stalked forward and circled the deer this time she kept her eyes on the mark she wanted. Her eyes locked on it’s jugular and she wanted to squeeze the life from this deer it needed to pay for her blunder.

The moment it lifted it’s head trying to get it’s front hooves under it in a vain attempt to get up despite the heavy wolf upon it flank. Whrist lunged in a deftly grabbed the exposed trachea,  her teeth sunk easily into flesh and this time was she rewarded with the coppery taste she had expected on her last strike.

She held her own, throwing her own weight into the deer, she was patient and she would not let go, even as the struggles below them became frantic the deer struggling with renewed vigour attempting to cling to life.