Meadowlark Prairie XXXV

she chases behind, eyes squinted half-shut as she dreads the feeling of hoof against skull. leaps forward, snags tail between teeth, pulling loose strands that billow in the wind and string along her muzzle.

they are in hot pursuit, now, and she sees the horse whirl and try to change direction.

it is here, here that she moves with purpose, surging forward to snag the pulsing jugular in her jaws;

a glancing blow, but it strikes true; she withdraws before the limbs can pummel her, watching blood leak from the majestic animal's throat.

it should slow, soon.

they will have their kill, soon.