WATCH YOUR STEP!

Lyra padded through the vast prairie, her brown pelt shimmering under the golden sunlight. The day was clear and the sky stretched out like an endless canvas of azure. Wildflowers bloomed in vibrant patches, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of earth and blossoms. At times like this, she wished she felt safe enough to lay back and observe the pretty flowers. Did they have meaning? Could these be used for the healers? Where many would revel in this peaceful scenery, Lyra's anxiety was high. She had wandered far from her pack today, driven by an insatiable curiosity and a desire to prove herself. She was alone and she hardly ever was alone, always making sure to follow her siblings or packmates wherever and whenever. The prairie was far from familiar. It was new and unseen but she had heard tale of many hunting stories. Perhaps today she would be able to grab something? Although she didn't care to impress the others, she wanted to know for herself if she could do it. Being one of the smaller pups, she was often left with a feeling of doubt about her capabilities. Everything was a trial, a need for her to prove to herself she was worthy to walk with such natural warriors. With each step, she felt the grass tickle her paws, and her keen eyes observed the delicate dance of butterflies among the flowers.

As she trotted through a particularly lush patch of grass, her senses were momentarily overwhelmed by the beauty of the scene. Lyra’s attention wavered, and it was only a split second of distraction that led to her unintended transgression. Her paw landed awkwardly on something small and fragile hidden in the grass. A sharp, panicked squeal erupted beneath her, and she felt an unsettling warmth against her paw. Startled, Lyra leaped back, her heart racing. She glanced down to see a newborn pronghorn fawn, its large, dark eyes wide with fear. The tiny creature lay motionless, its legs splayed in an awkward, helpless posture. Before Lyra could react further, a thunderous noise shattered the calm, the fawn’s mother had arrived.

The pronghorn doe was a... striking figure, her tawny coat adorned with white patches that gleamed in the sunlight. A well-fed herbivore with a child to protect. Her eyes, however, were not so serene. They burned with a fierce intensity as she bounded toward Lyra with astonishing speed. The fawn’s mother was a seasoned protector and Lyra was a pup caught off-guard.

Lyra’s instincts flared. Her ears flattened against her head, and her body positioned itself defensively. She had only faced wolves, fierce of course but never in a serious situation outside of sparring. She had never encountered such a relentless prey animal. This was different, the fight wasn’t driven by survival, but by a desperate, primal need to protect. Frankly, Lyra was scared. Even more scared than when she fought that crocodile, at least then she wasn't alone. Her siblings were there to guide her and work together. Now, she had an angry doe barrelling towards her at a shocking speed. There was no way she could outrun or even out-turn that thing. Her heart dropped in her chest.

The pronghorn doe charged at Lyra, her sharp hooves kicking up a storm of dust. Barely having time to react, she darted sideways, narrowly avoiding the first assault. The doe, undeterred, spun around with a snort, her hooves digging into the earth as she prepared for another charge. Lyra’s small and agile frame allowed her to dodge some of the doe’s aggressive advances. She darted back and forth, her movements precise, but the doe’s persistence was something Lyra hadn’t anticipated. It was one thing to outmaneuver a predator, but dealing with an herbivore driven to protect her young was a different challenge entirely. The doe wasn’t just defending; she was relentless, attacking with a desperate fury that defied Lyra’s expectations. Lyra was certain the doe wanted her dead, to destroy or at least mangle the wolf that threatened her child's life.

"Please! It was an accident!", the young girl pleaded unsure if the mother understood.

With each charge, the pronghorn’s hooves came dangerously close to Lyra’s side. Occasionally knicking her and leaving a thin streak of blood. The doe’s tactics were unrelenting, her stamina and speed were formidable matches. Lyra needed a new strategy. She couldn’t simply rely on her agility; she had to find a way to outthink her opponent. Yes, Gil had told her to rely on her agility and speed to best larger opponents but what could she do against something that was far better than her in all categories? She couldn't even best it in a battle of strength. While one of the smaller prey, the pronghorn was still a bit bigger than Lyra and fully developed.

In a brief lull between attacks, Lyra noticed the doe’s pattern. The pronghorn charged with precision, but each attack followed a predictable arc. Lyra used this to her advantage. Realizing that while the herbivore was quick and enduring, she had limited attacks. As the doe approached once more, Lyra feigned a retreat, luring the doe into a trap. She darted sideways, then swiftly circled the doe, positioning herself behind the enraged mother. In an attempt to kick Lyra, the doe lost her footing and fell.

The pronghorn doe, momentarily disoriented, whirled around to face Lyra, but the brief pause had given Lyra an opening. With a burst of speed, Lyra lunged forward, her teeth snapping in an attempt to fend off the doe’s aggressive hooves. She leaped and twisted, narrowly avoiding a powerful kick, and managed to bite the doe’s hind leg. Her teeth dug in as hard as she could and yanked with all her strength. Lyra's prey drive was triggered and the urge to chase was intense. Something deep and inherited from her ancestors called to her then. The doe let out a sharp cry, her forward momentum faltering. The squeal of pain only intensified Lyra's urges, biting down harder than before.

With a guttural cry, the doe reared up on her forelegs, her back hooves slashing through the air in some awkward buck. Lyra, anticipating the move, let go of the leg to duck and roll out of the way. The fight was taking its toll on her, each dodge and counterattack requiring all of her strength and agility. Her paws felt like lead and her tongue was bouncing as she tried to maintain her body temperature. She was exhausted but she had no choice to keep going, Lyra took a deep breath and focused. The doe was driven by a fierce maternal instinct, but Lyra knew she had to end the confrontation before it escalated further. She needed to get the doe to understand that she meant no harm and that the fawn was safe from further danger. Or at least best it in a fight. While she understood the circle of life, she also understood that this was a mother who just wanted to protect her child. Lyra could easily see one of her mothers reacting the same way towards a threat.

With a final move, Lyra used her size to her advantage once more. As the doe charged again, Lyra sidestepped and nipped at the doe’s flank, forcing her to stumble and lose her footing once more. The pronghorn fell to the ground, panting heavily, her anger giving way to exhaustion. Lyra, sensing the shift in the battle, stepped back cautiously. She watched as the doe struggled to rise, her strength waning. The doe’s gaze met Lyra’s, fear and adrenaline pulsing behind her big eyes. Lyra would take a step back, trying to let the creature know that she was done. And for a moment, there was an unspoken understanding between them. The fight had been fierce, but it was clear that neither would win if the battle continued.

Slowly, Lyra backed away, her eyes never leaving the doe. She could see the pronghorn’s maternal instinct still burning in her eyes, but it was now tempered with fatigue. With one last glance at Lyra, the mother would get up and touch her fawn. Eventually the two would leave and Lyra stood her ground. As she walked away, the prairie seemed to welcome her back with its calming embrace. The flowers still swayed in the breeze, and the sky remained a tranquil expanse of blue. Lyra had faced a challenge unlike any other, and though she had fought hard, she had also learned a valuable lesson about the fierce protectiveness of the creatures she shared the land with.

The prairie stretched out before her, vast and serene, and Lyra turned around to head back home with a newfound wariness of her surroundings.