Hideaway Strath That's All Right, I Love The Way It Hurts
Saints Of The Dying Light

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Pack Activity 
Calling all Saints!!! @Kynareth Deagon @Derg @Dove @Aries @Valour @Hemlocke @Leigh @Evelynn @Sasha Deagon

Time: Late evening/Nightfall 
Weather: 36 degrees F, Overcast
Activity: Hunt 

The Shieldmaiden had glimpsed a herd of what appeared to be elk, grazing out towards the Moors that neighbored the Strath. It had been a bit lighter out then, but the scents blowing toward her confirmed the herd was still close by. 
Nyra's golden eyes stayed pinned on the large beasts, thinking to herself....

Just one of those could feed us for at least a week...two of them would be even better. Too bad we don't have enough bodies to go for more than that...

With that decided, the snowy mammoth of a woman retreated back a bit further. The hooved monoliths would likely hear her regardless, but if they did not see her upon her howl, then they probably wouldn't relocate to a different spot. 
Then, Nyra threw her head back and sent a howl, calling for all wolves who shared the name Saint to her location. 

As she waited for the others to arrive, she kept a close watch on the elk herd to make sure they didn't trail off to a different part of their enclosed valley.
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Ah.
A call from the Paladin close to the borders.
Perhaps a recruit, though she called the pack.
Perhaps there was an issue.

Derg dropped everything and ran. It was only a fowl he'd caught.
Though once he'd arrived in her presence, everything was fine.
His breath clouded in the growing moonlight, contrasting the chilly air.
"A hunt, hm?"
What else would it be?
"What's your plan?"
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The elk. The herd was not within the safety of the forest just beyond the mountains and instead trailed the area close by The Saints claim, grasping their attention. 

As night fell, the hellhound became alert, moving outward from the safety of a quickly made densite and into the open air. 

This time when a call for the pack sounded (having not come to the last massacre and was glad for it) he would be able to come to it without causing harm to his own self in the process. By now, after the pack had to move from one mountain to another, all within the ranks (besides the new recruits) were well aware of Hemlocke's condition. 

When he arrived, there was but two, Nyra and their seconding leader. He offers a silent dip of his muzzle to Derg and a small smile to Nyra, awaiting instructions now that the smell of food was on the breeze.
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A howl sounds out through the area. Kynareth is easily able to decipher exactly who it belongs to — his Paladin, Nyra. The pale beast calls for the Saints and he can’t help but raise a curious brow at the beckon. Of course, he wastes no time in making his way there regardless of why she called. So he’s pushing himself into overdrive as he begins into a sprint, eventually slowing and stopping next to the few of his pack mates that arrived before him.

His black tongue hangs out of his maw to cool himself despite the chill and his sun like orbs flick to each of them. His Overseer, Hemlocke, and Nyra are the only ones on the scene at the moment and he fully expects the others to participate as well. 

Though as he pads to the other side to stand next to Nyra, he intentionally brushes their shoulders as he slinks in beside her. His hues scouting the horizon and spotting ungulates that make his mouth water with the anticipation of a hard earned meal and his heart beats faster at the promise of a hunt.

“You’ve called for a hunt then, dear.” He hums beside her, a proud smile on his maw. “I’m much too happy to oblige.” 
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Three have come to her call so far. Hemlocke, Derg, and the Grandmaster - Donovan. Even though she now knew his true name, she had been calling him Donovan for so long that calling him anything else was difficult. 

The Paladin glanced to the nearly full moon, then back to the elk. Licking over her muzzle, Nyra pulled herself into a tall, powerful stance, raising her voice a few levels as she turned back to those present "So far, only the four of us are present. Thus our strategy will be based around that, unless more of our numbers arrive prior to taking action." Nyra met the gaze of each of her fellow wolves briefly before continuing "Hemlocke, Derg. The two of you are far better built for speed than me and our Grandmaster. Once we have a target chosen - you two will be the main chasers. Get as many blows in to the legs and joints as you can to slow it down. Don- er, Kynareth, and I, will split off from you both as we get closer. We will wait further out until our choice ungulate is chased close enough for Kynareth and I to ambush it from the front. If nothing else, our sudden emergance from it's path should slow it down enough that all four of us can get the damn thing on the ground." Glancing once more to the herd and back, the Shieldmaiden perked her ears a bit "Any additions or suggestions to this plan are welcome. All possible paws on board." 

From there, she silenced herself to leave room for everyone else to offer stragetic input.
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#6
He listened to her plan.
It was like the one used in the canyon, but there was no backstop.
Not catacombs here to run them into.
They would win or fail.

Derg stretched out, ready for the run ahead.
He looked to the ungulates, already watching them with suspicion.
"Sounds good," he replied.
She would be in charge of any mishaps, as a hunt leader should.
She'd know that though.
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Hemlocke listened carefully, all the while scanning the elk grazing out in the distance, watching for any hints of injury, illness... He wasnt lucky enough to have spot any, but perhaps they had? Bloodied eyes turned to his packmates, then to the herd. Her? A single question as his muzzle jut into the direction of a female elk- midaged, maybe, she was large and looked strong. Any teenaged elk was as big as any adult female deer so even though it wasnt a bull, the elk would feed them plenty. Mostly, she was bigger then some of the younger looking females but she also did not have horns to make a threat of them.
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He listens silently to Nyra’s well thought out plan and flicks his gaze over to look at his pack mates as Derg agrees simply. Then can’t help looking at the herd when Hemlocke points out one of the many female elk. He notices that she is bigger than some of the other females and he can’t help but mentally agree that it would feed them for days. Possibly even weeks of the cold preserves the meat well enough for them.

“Plan sounds good to me too. Good job Nyra, solid plan. As for your pick, Hemlocke, she is a rather healthy one. Though it seems this herd is quite healthy as a whole. That’s good and bad news for us. Good because the herd will last, bad because she has the opportunity to fuck us up while we’re hunting her. Be careful.” His words are spoken clearly and calmly all the while his star struck eyes are stuck on the ungulates before him. 

Or that is until he eyes his team with a devilish smirk. “Shall we?” He asks, eager to get on with the hunt.
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Nyra's gaze followed Hemlocke's to the suggested female elk. Large, looked to be in prestine health. She continued to watch her as she moved, and payed close attention to the scent this female elk had. 
Rutting season had to be over by now...right? 

Yet, this elk was pregnant. Very much so....
Maybe her baby was overdue...? Or a buck had gotten lucky past season...it was a tough thing to figure out, but, this female was an overfilled balloon waiting to pop. 
"Wait..." Nyra chufffed, blocking Kynareth slightly with her shoulder, "She's definitely healthy, but she is also very likely to go into labor any day now. I don't know how or why she's pregnant this late into the year, but she is. She'll likely be slower due to the weight in her belly, but this may mean she'll be more aggressive...anyhow, let's move." 

All said that Nyra thought needed to be said, she fell in next to Kynareth, looked to Derg and Hemlocke, then leveled her head with her spine and began moving toward the herd. The Shieldmaiden had faith the others would follow suit.
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They targeted the fattest one they could see.
Derg blinked in mostly disbelief. Really?
That one?

He clenched his teeth together. They would have to learn themselves.
He was only once a birdcatcher, but that didn't mean he had no knowledge of ungulates. Even so, Nyra pointed out that this doe was likely to give then as harder time as a stag -- and still they went for it.
He was about to open his mouth to talk them out of it.

But they were gone.
Fine.
He bristled and followed ​Hemlocke who was also tasked with running the herd.
This could end in...disaster. All he could vision was hooves caving in skulls, stags coming through to trample them and crack their ribs through their skin.
He kept a wide berth around the elk ar they started to run from the hunting party. 
Fuck this. Hooves were already flying.

He singled out a lame doe, mud clumped all up to her neck. She must have been stuck in a bog and managed to get out, but not unscathed.
He wondered if they would take the easy, sensible option. You shouldn't kill the pregnant ones -- where will the herd be next year if you did?
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She was pregnant, that much Hemlocke had not taken note of. After all, spending the majority of his life along or at his mother's side, the thinman had not often hunted as a whole with a pack. He hunted small game, enough for himself and his mother only. Hemlocke took note that with her pregnancy she would give the wolves hell to pay in order to protect not only herself but her unborn child. Also, however, this would make her slower, clumsier and would wear out faster. They really had a 50/50 chance of making this work. If they had more of their pack with them perhaps they would have been better off.

They were off then, quickly-Hemlocke of course as lean as he was, faster then all of them by far. He kept his pace at Derg's side however, taking to one side of their target in hopes that Derg would take her other side so that they may corral her straight and away where she could not reunite with her herd. Derg however, had other plans. Whether him having gotten a panic at the sudden stampede of hooves, whether he just not was very experienced with hunting large game, Derg completely lost sight of his target and instead went for another doe, one smaller, one slick with mud heavy on her body from likely a fall in the bog.

Hemlocke tried to recover himself, tried to change his coarse so that he too was going after the other deer-but he had to catch up and in this would likely completely confuse Nyra and Donovan all the same. Their group of four separated already, Hemlocke tried to bite for the muddy doe's legs though ended up with a mouth full of mud and muck and then he would slip on it as he fell into a pile of mess that had fallen off the elk. He yelps, loud, as he does then tumble onto the ground, the elk far from his grip now.
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Kynareth’s all kinds of confused when he watches Derg dart for the wrong deer. Albeit this sudden change of target looks a bit more frail than the last. Though his brows do furrow and a light twinge of anger shoots down his spine at the abrupt change of plans. It’s not like the herd was going anywhere, so Donovan doesn’t understand why Derg had the sudden urge to jump into the fray with a plan completely different from the one he just agreed to carry out. That how people die — not following plans.

So as Derg goes, Hemlock follows. Donovan gives a quick look of Well it’s too late now to Nyra with an obvious expression of dismay and light anger. He’s going to try and catch up to the orhers, surely Nyra will follow suit.

“So, fuck the plans we just made, Derg?” Donovan spits to his counterpart with obvious irritation and a huff of breath. “Would’ve been little to no effort to pipe up the idea of a new target.” 

With whatever Derg’s response will be Kynareth would merge into the deers lane and snap at its muddy hock. Then suddenly a loud whimper and the stumbling form of Hemlock slipping beneath them and being deposited a few meters behind. Hemlock is quick and agile, he can catch up. Even though he gives a concerned look back towards the hellhound. They can’t risk letting her get away.
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The plan was in motion.

And then it wasn't?
Derg made for a completely different elk, soon followed by Hemlocke and an obviously irritated Kynareth. 
Ah, so that's why.
She pulled into stride next to their Grandmaster, "I can see why Derg changed course. This one is weaker, a bit smaller too. Our original target is pregnant, and yes, that makes her slower - but our Overseer is wise in his actions here." Nyra met Donovan's gaze with understanding before she continued quietly, while the herd and their new target elk were still idle, "If we were to kill that pregnant elk, the herd would not have as many young, if any at all, to keep itself stable for the coming year." 

Though Nyra was a battle baby, she too understood the cycles of nature that needed to be upheld. 

The chase begins. 
Hemlocke is knocked back a few yards or so as the frail elk starts to run. Nyra glances back to the hellhound briefly before she pelts after their target. 
The rest of the herd has already began to scatter and flee. With a growl, Nyra pulls herself into overdrive, moving around the elk's side to lunge at it's shoulder, throw it off course and bar her from rejoining the safety of her herd. 

Success! 

The weak female ungulate bellows, staggering and tripping some as she tries to jolt herself away from Nyra's wicked teeth. 

The Paladin's jaws click, just a hair from their target's flesh yet still on emptiness as the ungulate struggles, and succeeds, to dodge the Shieldmaiden's assault. 

But, Kynareth and Derg are still at her hocks, still biting and snapping and scoring angry gashes into her legs.
And Nyra is still surging for her throat despite missing the elk's shoulder. 

Miss Frail Elk pulls herself into a run again.
One last desperate attempt to get away. 

Nyra is quick just as she has faith her packmates are, and continues the chase.
If they are lucky, Kynareth can still pull himself up to the ungulate's other shoulder, and while Derg and Hemlocke are at her hocks, Nyra and the Grandmaster can force themselves into a final thrust of speed to make this elk roll head over hooves into the dirt, where every set of jaws can make sure she never gets up again.
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Ahh sorry for holding this up
Kynareth spat his fury at him.
Whatever.
"Didn't see it limp."

Good enough right? Too late now.
Hemlocke fell, dropping to the floor. Shit.
He didn't stop, only a mere glance to see if he rose or not.
The pack needed food.

He could hear Nyra covering for him as he surged onwards as Nyra lept for it's throat. Now as the lone herder, he needed to pass in front, cutting it from the herd fully, and push it back into the path of Nyra and Kynareth so they could take it down while it was panicking and making bad decisions. 
He moved alongside the elk, at its shoulder now. He could see the sites of its eyes as it ran with head held high.
It swung away from Derg and the herd. He hoped the pair could snag it.
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As it would be, Hemlocke was not the only one irritated with Derg's sudden change of plans, a thing that could have not only lost them the hunt but also got someone hurt in the process. Though Locke could hear Nyra's agreement, such a thing should have been made before the stampede. 

Alas, as per usual, the Thinman kept his comments and thoughts to himself as he quickly scrambled up and back into the hunt. Swifter then they, it didnt take long to catch up and upon doing so, would corral the prey from the backside so as to keep her on a straight path whilst the largest of the group took their strike.
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The hunt at this point isn’t going horrible. So Kynareth decides to up there pace a little bit, thrusting a bit more effort into it to just get everything over with. His spine prickles with irritation and he wants the feel of ripping flesh to greet him and the metallic tang of blood to slide down his throat. So as he runs beside this beast, as are the others, he’s throwing himself into the doe back end.

His giant paws gripping onto her as his teeth shred the skin of her rump. The force of his hit would swing her back half to the left — hopefully no one gets trampled again. She should be going down soon, especially with the efforts of the grandmaster latching onto her.
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The doe elk bellows again as Derg, Hemlocke and Kynareth keep up the assault. 

At Donovan's attack to her rump she staggers, almost buckles completely. 

"Now!" Nyra calls above their target's panicked screams, surging for one of the fragile elk's front legs, biting deep and hard. 

With everyone's effort piled on - the ungulate would fall. It was only a matter of time.
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Hemloke was up and running alongside them now.
Good. Perfect even.
Kynareth snagged the ass of the doe, and Nyra a foreleg. 

Derg tried to push forwards more. The stumble was all he needed.
He lept up, biting into the side of the neck, not enough to kill it by far, but enough to keep a hold of it while Homlocke or Nyra could go for the kill.
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Hemlocke had not expected to be the one, not at all. He had imagined this hunt going a completely different direction, with him and Derg on either side of the elk's back end and Nyra and Donovan at either side of the front...and with a completely different target, mind you. 

However, as fate made it so, Donovan latched onto the back side of the elk, causing her lower end to sway to the left and buckle downward. Nyra took hold of a front leg, holding it in place so that the elk could not rear up and slam down upon them. Then Derg, grabbing the side of the elk's long neck opposite of Nyra, causing its head to pull to the side. 

Hemlocke was the only one left, only one to make the move and so of course, he did. Springing forth quickly, he rounds up to the front, keeping more to the side Nyra was on. On this side he didn’t need to worry about a leg killing him, on this side the neck was arched to reveal exposed sensitivity whilst Derg was yanking on her. Long hind-legs lifting upwards, the hound's teeth make to wrap around the throat of the creature at the base of her jawline, gripping hard. His back legs lift up, so that he is hanging in the air a few moments, using all his weight to force the elk's head and neck, along with the rest of it, crashing to the ground.
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The poor girl is walled in on every side, sharp teeth tearing and ripping, puncturing. She’s going to die and she knows it. Her herd already making their leave, not wanting to be next. Surely they know how it goes though, she was the unlucky one. Life isn’t fair after all.

So the rest of them latch onto their respective places and finally Hemlocke and his beautiful, elegant self is the one to bring her down. He smiles around the flesh in his mouth and tumbles along with her. His jaws only loosening to bite once more and once she’s stationary on the ground her long legs kick out in blind panic. She’s able to get him pretty good in the shoulder with her free leg but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest.the action only causing him to emit a deep, savage growl from the depth of his broad, barreled chest. 

Then he’s planting his feet firmly in place and shaking his body violently. Tearing and tearing, so much blood and it’s absolutely beautiful. This is what he relishes in when he takes a life. This is why he lives — to kill.
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At last, their choice Elk falls to the ground. Her cries and flails faded out as Nyra, Derg, Hemlocke and Kynareth set upon her further.
Once it was on the ground, Nyra only let go of the foreleg once it stopped moving.

On the bright side, the doe elk's death was not a terribly slow one. 
Nonetheless, it was dead. 

Feeling the spirit of their victory now, Nyra lifted her head and let out a loud, beautiful song of a howl to celebrate. 
Silently she hoped the others would join in, and once the celebratory song died out with or without her packmates, Nyra smiled proudly at them, tail waving happily as she spoke.

"Good work, everyone." The Shieldmaiden praised.
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Derg tore into the elk, pulling into the thick flesh about the neck.
Hoping to kill her quicker through blood loss. Hoping to hit an artery.

He might've hit something, but soon, she lay dead still.
A deathly quiet fell over him. His eyes tilted to Kynareth - he'd heard him grunt, he must've been kicked.
Then he turned his attention to Hemlocke. His actions hurt the midnight man.
He moved closer, clicking his ears back and attempting to give his a soft bump to his shoulder. A silent apology.
Next time, he wouldn't be so rash.

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Alas, despite the hiccups of it all, the three wolves were victorious. With the young elk down, Hemlocke's head remained low, muzzle buried in the throat of the creature, feeling her pulse against the inside of his mouth, her heavy and hot breath in his ear slowing more and more. Large pointed ears would perk at the sound of Donovan, who had been struck by a hard hoof and strong leg. He remained holding, despite a kick from such an animal being able to shatter bone on impact if hitting right.

When Nyra's song of celebration is released, he so does release, knowing with certainty it is over with. The hellhound too lifts up his boxy muzzle, calling out both in celebration and for the remainder of their ranks to come and enjoy the spoils.

Finishing his sound, deep and melancholy tones, he backs up and sits, panting and offering room to his higher authorities to feed first. Hemlocke is caught off guard by Derg's touch, as Locke had been accessing Donovan's own shoulder from afar. His body tenses naturally to the touch but then he eases and offers a small smile. Leathery black nose would touch and sniff at the base of the man's torn ear, an equal silence of acceptance to his plea.
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Kynareth’s momentarily obvious to his pack mates concern. He doesn’t shake her for long, feeling the fight leave her, the fight also leaves him. Exhaustion and pain setting in instead. Yeah, she got him good. No broken bones thankfully, for the kick hit the meat of his shoulder, he’d definitely bruise. Probably would be walking by funny for a few days too. 

I’m the back of his mind he hears Nyra congratulate the team and he lifts his bloody maw away front he deer to do so as well. “Yeah. Good job guys.” He hums looking to each of them with a lightly pained smile to his face. 

He nods to them and wastes no time digging in. Going for the soft belly and tipping it open to get to the richest meat. Pulling up and chewing, he stares at them with a cheek full of food. He’s feeling friendly now. His mood completely changing from earlier and he nods to Nyra and Locke. Practically saying fuck that come eat. Before fuggin in once more. There wasn’t many of them anyhow.
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Celebratory songs over, Nyra chuckled with a growing smile, pulling herself around with Kynareth, she too dug into the elk's belly, though didn't go for the pieces her Grandmaster looked to be after. 
Any leftovers could be cached in different spots around the Strath if needed.