Dawnlark Plains rake my teeth 'gainst your beating heart

Orlaith had a one-tracked mind, when she had a task at hand, rarely did her mind tend to stray. Focused, she had a prowl while circling the stag, carefully watching for moment. Watched each step he would take, each twist of the head and look at his eyes. She needed to know, where he was going, and if away from the rest. Only a bit of distance would do- for it was an easy scare to startle. Patience was a virtue that they both had, patiently wishing to take the crown upon his head.

He moved away, just enough. Enough where the sovereign lunged in between him, and his herd. Away! They rest scarred off by the sudden movements of the flaming wolf, but she thought they were far too easy to scare. Perhaps, they were lucky he was just but a younger version, and they sought protection to the true king. Nontheless, a crown was a crown, a prince or a king, a princess and a queen, it would be the fairies win.

A success of seperation, Orlaith grinned. It was Aoibh's time to strike.