The Standard

[Neassa]

((Continuaton of the thread "Hunger Grows"))

Arriving among the high grasses of the plains, Seraph slowed from the trot that had brought her there, and into a slow walk. She was down-wind of the lone deer she had scented, and her pelt blended well with the yellowish color of the grasses: there was a drought, and whatt was once green had taken on a straw deadness. The moment she entered preying territory, her ordinarily outstanding appearance seemed to shrink; pressed low to the ground, she was virtually undetectable from a distance.

Turning about, her cool gaze surveyed the area she had come from. The moving shapes of two wolves followed her, and even from her position, she surveyed them. Watching each stride, each movement: assessing them for the challenge that would come.

[Arctic Snow]

A gust blew down wind as the smell of Deer reached her nose. Pulling her self low to the ground the dead grass almost covered her with shade. She pulled far off to the left of Seraph staying low, her haunches slightly lifted ready for that burst of speed she always needed to stay level with the game.

Her head slowly moved toward Seraph but the pray still in eyes view. She slowly dug her forepaws into the dry dirt lifting up her nose slightly pulling in every aroma of the lone deer ready to become their next meal.

[Luke Shale]

His size let him fall unto cover, barley seen. His tri-hued pelt let him creep unknowingly. Even in a lowered crouch, her was fast, his legs striding him closer. The scent filled him with eagerment restlessness, but he kept a steady pace. He looked at a pile af twigs and licked his chops.

His gaze shifted to seraph, but only momentarily. He turned to the left side of the prey and again, looked for the command. He then realized the sence of his position, flank. To be exact, left flank, he would make the first move.

He lurched forward with speed and stability, biting at the flank of the deer before him. He didn't slow and had to turn and bite at the deers legs. Dodging an attack, he jumped and ripped at the muscel af it's back left flank, soon getting kicked in the leg.

[Arctic Snow]

Watching Luke Shale take off she desided this was the time before the meal had gotten away. Pushing with all of her might Arctic Snow bursted out quickly catching up. She begain snapping at the heals of the deer, just missing a kick in the face, but she kept even.

Her teeth caught onto a bit of flesh up neer the flank but it ripped through spraying her face with raindrops of crimson. Her teeth bare she kept up waiting for Seraph to take the last move.

((I didn't know weather to wait for a comand or just go.....I desided to just go))

[Neassa]

A look that could have been suprise or disdain appeared on Seraph's face as both wolves burst into the hunt without comment. She had originally planned to outline the way of pack-hunting with them, but it appeared they knew what they where doing. Something resembling a wince crossed her lips as she watched the deer kick out fiercly towards the male wolf, she didn't seem to relax even after he recovered from it and continued his onslaught.

Taken aback as she was, Seraph was not one to lose sight of duty. Launching into her own, coordinated attack, she propelled her way forward, into the position she always hunted in. Muscles tensed and then sprung, and with a tiny gasp of effort, she pushed herself ahead of the fleeing prey. Years of practice kicked in as she effectively blocked it from available escape routes. Twisting and weaving where her specialties, and executed to perfection.

The deer was in pain, and already ill; a recipe for success or disaster. In this case the former: in a manner customary to those who know they are doomed, the crature lashed out with all it's might. Stone-hard hooves struck in all directions, flailing in a manner that would deal damage to any wolf it hit. Even blunt, usually peaceful, teeth; gnashed togethor near Seraph's head. The movements seemed to disuade the fae's attack, and she fell back to the side a bit, in an effort to avoid injury. Such actions would be similarly necessary for the other two wolves, and with a jerk of her muzzle, the eldest among them indicated that they give the creature a bit of room. It would be more effective to allow the creature to tire itself out: after all, it was already bleeding. The real question was if the others had the patience to wait, to curb their instincctive bloodlust. For they must, if they ever wished to succeed: as Seraph had.

[Arctic Snow]

((Sorry this took so long to reply I was busy))

Arctic Snow watched Seraph take off after they had already knowing they would get a scolding aftwards for not going on comand, yet if she had not gone the brute would have been off on his own and their meal would have gotten away.

Backing off she slowed her steady "gallop" to a slow walk taking in deep breathes, she watched the tired buck romp around thrashing at anything that got to close. Turning back she marched foward still watching over her sholder to make sure he wouldn't come after her. Sitting next to Seraph she sat like a stone waiting for the next move, the last move.

[Neassa]

((I was going to wait for Luke Shale to post, but since it's been a while, I'll just go ahead))

<sup>A thankful glance was thrown in the female's direction, the sort of thankfulness that rarely appeared on Seraph's visage. It was nice to know someone could demonstrate restrain and do their job. Speaking of the job. She focused her attention back on the prey before her. Driven towards her, and still lashing out wildly, the creature was forced to make reckeless moves. Moves that would not bode well for it. With a intake of breathe, Seraph latched onto the front right foot of the creature. Blood seeped through skin and the sound of breaking bone echoed in the older fae's ear.

For all that the creature shook and struggled, it could not shake the aging wolf off. Still clenching her jaws tightly on the crushed limb, she jerked her muzzle towards the female: she had done well. The gesture could only stand for one thing:finish the kill.</sup>

[Arctic Snow]

The sound of crushing bones echoed through her mind as she watched the creature fend for its last few minutes of life, knowing it would be all over soon.

Lurching foward Arctic Snow pulled her legs close gaining speed quickly. Jumping up she latched on the neck crushing the neck, cutting off any air flow. Watching its eyes glaze over it toppled over tripping over its own feet. As she landed Arctic Snow gave one quick jerk snapping the neck, ripping off fleash as her fangs left the holes in its neck. Blood covered her neck and face as the crimson liquid splattered everywere. Stepping back she sat and waited for the next command.

[Neassa]

<sup>A distinctly predatory and wolfish smile settled onto Seraph's face as their prey toppled over; windpipie crushed and life fleeing. Releasing her grip on it's lifeless limb, she retreated back a few feet to observe the damage. There wasn't much: about a hundred yards of displaced and trampled grass and sand, a bit of dust rising into the hazy air. Traces of the hunt would be gone within a month: very good, they would be able to use this land again, the prey wouldn't remember how dangerous it was. With a satisfied nod towards both wolves she was working with, and a more subtle praise that could almost have been a "good job" towards Artic Snow, she approached the prey again.

"Now comes the fun part. We get to drag this" She good-naturedly shoved the corpse. "Back to the dens." The recent success had put her in a good mood, almost too good to actually be herself. And even as the jesting words left her mouth, she wondered at them: when was the last time she'd made a joke?

Shaking that thought away, she latched back onto the deer's leg: this time in order to get a good hold for the long trio home. In a big pack, this would be when the hunters boasted about their part, bickered over minor details, and attempted to steal bites before they had to give their prize to those higher ranked. There would be little of this banter now, after all: did any of them really know eachothe? All they had was a face, a name, and a rank -and some not even that, it would take time, more than anything else, to transform this rabble into a true pack.

With a great heave, Seraph began transporting the carcass, not waiting for the others to latch on just yet, but fully expecting them too. After all, the exhiliration of the kill was all good, but the contemplation following it while one felt the dead weight of their victim was what created the hunter.</sup>

((Seraph is headed back towards the pack lands, If you don't answer, I'll just assume you follow and help w/ the dragging. It's heavy! ;D ))

[Arctic Snow]

Padding, okay it was more of a 'skip' Arctic Snow lached on to the neck with her large, mightly jaws. Behind her, her tail wagged slightly knowing she had done well. Benith the blood and skin a smile was beeming, she had not hunted like that in a while, and hadn't taken down game like that either.

((Short but I guess I'll wait untill we get back to the pack lands to post again.))