Honeyed Pasture i've got a good feeling; it doesn't happen very often

The smell of blood dilated his pupils ever so slightly, turning him into a shark as Marcus also began to circle the wounded prey. He was thankful Wren did not suffer any injury from the fawn's final attempt to throw her, and could now focus solely on the kill... and how hungry he was. The feeling had only resurfaced in the moment, and it was then that the loner realized how long it had been since he had a good meal. Too long. 

Wren was more vocal than he was although it was partially due to the fact that he enjoyed listening to her. Awaiting her decision the male closed in slowly, shifting on front paws to counter the deer's last few attempts to flee. It was time. Her glance electrified him, and so he ended the chase with a quick snap of the neck. 

Immediately, he brought the prize to her, laying its blood-stained corpse at her feet with a low whine. "M'lady." He knew he sounded dorky, that was the entire point. The line black line of his mouth parted to reveal a bloody grin, which was then promptly licked clean of any lingering gristle.