Dragoncrest Cliffs o, tempora! o, mores!

she doesn't know others are disapproving. only the chase is before her, and when the deer moves to protect her fawn, Avicus moves for the former. if she can drive the mother away. . . 

she's limping, slightly, still favoring her injuries from the fight at the grotto. but, fearless, she charges toward the doe, teeth snapping hard and fast, making sharp sounds even in the heavy summer air. she moves closer, trying to grasp the doe by her shoulder.

go! she insists, eyes rolling toward the others, for surely the fawn is unaccompanied now. she worries the doe at her shoulder, nipping, grasping, jaws slaving.

a hoof grazes one ear and she shakes her head, dizzied by the near-miss. she lunges forward, hoping to reach the soft belly beneath the doe's hind legs.