Kildeer Rest pakstoka

The approach of Heda and the cow was painstakingly slow, and Veteran almost sprung from his position a half-dozen times in impatience. He continuously reminded himself of how awful it had been trying to run through that snow. He just needed to wait for the right moment. Some of the Moonglow hunters could wait for hours, he recalled. 

Heda was the real hero, trudging all the way out through the snow, and now back, driving the caribou. Veteran owed it to her to do this the right way. 

Finally, the cow was close enough to grab. Veteran leaped, attaching himself to its throat with ease. The cow went down quickly and heavily. The half-second before Veteran tore its throat out, he could have sworn he heard it sigh with relief.  

Hot blood stained the snow, spilling from the new wound in the caribou's neck. It lay still. Veteran looked to Heda, tail wagging tenuously. It was dead, right? He'd just made his first kill, right?