Rising Sun Valley Fresh Meat… and it’s me

A flurry of motion—his eyes focused on the buck and he could see the antlers swing toward him once more and he had to pivot back, a guttural snarl escaping him as he crouched lower in the spin, ducking below and feeling the graze of the antler along his back—a near miss.

More determined now to end this rather than flee, the creek Alpha lunged again, an opening it seemed at the stag’s shoulder—his teeth aiming to gouge deep and pull the beast off balance.