Ouroboros Spine lxiv. if i promised to leave my gun at the door

sorry for the wait, I was waiting on Qadira's reply but didn't realize she was currently on NPC status! Wrapping this up since its a bit stale.

The two russet wolves tore the cow's throat open, one ghost at the far side, and the dove on the other. It would've felled any creature but at the elk's age, she practically crumpled to her knees. There was no crying bleat, no low bellow of defeat -- only a rasping gurgle as the hunters brought her down and put an end to her pain. 

Her face painted in blood that spilled down her chest and across her shoulders, not unlike a fierce warpaint, Lótë finally pulled back -- panting with effort as her tongue rasped along her chops. Silently, she offered a prayer of gratitude to the spirit of the elk and its kin. The cow's death would provide for the lives of the village. Even so, her legacy lived on in the herd that shared their territory.

A brief look of victory was shared with her comrades before they fell into discussion on how to best butcher the carcass for preservation, a subject Lótë was well versed in.