Rakia moved with a purpose through the gleaming landscape - the dry and dusty riverbed beneath her paws felt as firm as bone. Her icy blue eyes glinted with an unwavering determination, reflecting the midday winter sun. The pristine marble cliffs, steep and daunting, stretched out on either side of her, their white, gray, and golden hues providing a constant reminder of the beauty that could be found even in such desolate places.

She kept her nostrils flared, picking up on the unique scent of their quarry - the strong, earthy musk of a lone Yak. She moved along the path of the ancient riverbed that was layered in snow. Ears pricked forward, her breath steaming slightly in the biting cold. The white landscape was mercilessly bright under the midday sun – so bright that it seemed to blur the edges of her vision and made her squint. However, the brightness also revealed what they had been tirelessly tracking. A series of large hoofprints. The Yak's. Their next victim’s.

"Rakia Perreau"

Eyes narrowed to block most of the winter’s sunny gaze from her visage. Its bright midday light a reminder that night would surely be upon them soon. Casting shadows over the towering cliffs which loomed on either side. They’d taken their time to descend such rocky peaks. Hooves being trekked through the thick layer of snow to wander the riverside. 

Melanth felt a thirst build the moment she reached the water’s edge. Drinking quick, swift gulps of water to ease the dryness from their journey. Her gaze falling on the sudden stillness of Raika. Had she found the herd? Ears drew t’wards the sound of Yak calls ahead. Their bellowing melody filled the air and beckoned forth a grumble from Mel’s stomach. At this rate, she surely would gain more muscle and fat for the harsher weathers to come.
"Helonia"~~"Melanth"

Aristaios moved with Rakia, his senses tuned to the hunt. This time they had a new quarry to find. The dry, dusty riverbed felt firm beneath his paws. His two toned eyes shone with determination, reflecting the midday winter sun against the marble cliffs. He watched as Rakia flared her nostrils, catching the earthy musk of their prey – a lone yak. They followed the ancient, snow-layered riverbed, ears pricked forward, breath steaming in the biting cold. The blinding brightness of the white landscape revealed what they sought eventually: a series of large hoofprints. He offered a nod to the other hunters, a grin splitting his maw. The yak was near, and the hunt was on.


""

Azrael was having quite a lot of fun navigating between the fragments of blue ice and white marble rock as he bounded down the ancient frozen river with his compatriots in search of their next quarry. All of this was like one big game to the Saxe brute; a deadly bout of hide and seek in a sense. The prey would hide and they would seek it—and they always won. It was easy to do when their targets smelled like a barn from a mile away and so graciously left clear tracks for them to follow in the snow. This particular beast had even done them the courtesy of leaving some fresh scat along the way. Az's nose turned up at the acrid stench of shit, but it did point them on the right track. The yak would be theirs before day's end and another notch would be added to his belt of slain Boreal prey animals.

Following at the back of the group, Azrael brought up the rear, making sure no clues were left unfound, no traces of prey undetected. It wasn't hard to follow the yak's scent given how gods damn musky the thing was. It was practically a beacon summoning the wolves to it. Really, they were doing it a favor by killing the creature; it was basically asking for it! Eyes alternating between the horizon and the ground to follow the tracks and seeking to spy the large creature as they ran.

"Azrael"

The thrill of the hunt drives the dark man on, pulling him away from Syndicate lands and out to where the familiar group of hunters had gathered. It is easy for him to fall in line, dutifully following the pink and gray woman across the land as his nose pulls in the scents of all the nearby prey. Zeke zeros in on the earthy musk of a yak and it seems that the party has the same idea as they angle in the direction of the scent.

They move toward where their victim waits, hoofprints appearing on the blinding white canvas of snow and marble as they track the yak, each mentally readying to take down the creature. Mouth waters with the anticipation of the kill to come, not focused on the meat or pelt but the actual moment that death will close its icy grip around the animal. Duel-toned eyes flick over to their leader, silently questioning the plan without saying a word.


"Ezekiel Saxe"

Rakia prowled forward, her slender form low to the ground, advancing at a pace that was calculated and unerring. The harsh winter sun illuminated the hunched shape of the yak ahead. The wind shifted subtly, and she inhaled deeply, catching the aroma of warm fur, ripe with fear. A low growl rumbled in her throat, a sound more felt than heard. Rakia’s eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the unsuspecting creature before her.

The cluster of pines beyond the riverbed swayed, their slender branches clicking against one another like skeletal fingers in the biting wind. The snow beneath her paws crunched softly, each step a testament to the impending silence of their hunt. Cool tendrils of air passed through Rakia's coat, urging her towards the warmth emanating from their prey. Rakia crouched lower, her belly nearly brushing the snow. The taste of victory already teased at her senses –

And once they drew close enough, she launched herself forward with a force that sent snow scattering in an explosion of white. Her body moved with practiced grace, muscles bunching and extending with every bound she took towards their unwitting prey. The sight of a fleeing yak brought a primitive thrill to her heart, intensifying the predatory glint in her eyes.

"Rakia Perreau"

The snow yielded beneath their paws as they closed in on their prey. Each step was a silent declaration of their intent, the anticipation of the hunt heightening with every heartbeat. He could sense the primal energy coursing through the group, a blur of movement against the white landscape. And suddenly, Rakia was lurching forward. Beginning their pursuit. The fleeing yak was desperate, its body trudging through the snow as it fought to run away. The thrill of the chase ignited a fierce fire within Aristaios, driving him onward as they closed the distance. His lips peeling back to reveal a vicious grin as he howled, egging on their prey’s panic.


""

Hooves and paws beat like drums against the crisp snow. Their rhythmic movements creating clouds of white flurries in their wake. The Yak’s call fill the air with panicking cries. Exciting the gather of beast at its heels. Snarls, growls, and hungry snap of jaws drove the prey deeper into the wash. Melanth one of them pumping more adrenaline into throbbing veins. Lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth. Closing in on one of the male’s thighs. For a second, she lost her footing. Nearly tripping over a lump of snow she had no clue was right in front of her. Mel’s body tumbled in a quick roll. Leaving her to adjust and get herself back into the thrill of the hunt.

"Helonia"~~"Melanth"

Moving across the snow towards their prey in a quiet chorus of crunching snow, Azrael followed the hunting pack closer to the yak and into a better position. The blush fae—their de facto leader for the time being—took the lead and began their hunt proper with a growl and a burst of energy. As soon as she was moving, the rest of the party was moving too. Several wolves charged the yak, zeroing in on their target. The yak bellowed in fear and began to flee, but there would be no escape this time. The wolves were relentless in their pursuit and methods. Powerful muscles pumped and churned, green eyes sharp and lethally focused, his body moving like a well oiled machine as he maneuvered himself with Rakia, swerving to one side of the yak to corral it from trying to dart away while the others started taking bites at it to slow it down and bring the great beast to the ground. It would only be a matter of time.

"Azrael Saxe"

The chaos of the hunt was an addictive symphony, and Rakia was its conductor. Her muscles ached sweetly, adrenaline flooding her veins as she skillfully evaded the thrashing hooves of their prey. She could hear the yelps of her companions, their barks echoing in her ears and blending with the panicked lows of the yak. Her heart pounded with every leap and dodge, the thrill fuelling her movements.

She just fucking went for it. Once she was in range Rakia, leapt with as much strength as she could muster to cling to the Yak’s shoulder- as close to its topline as she could manage. Her teeth sank into the rough hide, her paws hooking onto the matted fur. The world turned upside down for a brief moment as she clung stubbornly, the brute trying to buck her off with violent shakes of its body. But Rakia held on, her jaws locked in a death grip. Blood seeped from the wound she had inflicted, staining the snow beneath.

The chase was nearing its end; she could see it in the way the yak’s movements were becoming labored, each step more desperate than the next. If she could just hold on a little longer, perhaps the others could make it to the kill blow.

"Rakia Perreau"

The discovery of her footing back in alignment, she went opposite of where Rakia held onto the Yak. Finding her own placement on a shoulder blade. The fleshy area meeting sharp teeth. Her body thrusted about for a brief moment. The beast refusing to go down. Even with the added weight to its own.

Helonia let out a sound of frustration. Needing this to be over as hunger stroked their insides. Melanth tugging harshly while putting down her weight. It was only a matter of seconds that the Yak would find itself sliding across the white flooring. Having lost its own step after the third attack. Something in them felt the nearing to an end.
"Helonia"~~"Melanth"

Aristaios surged forward, his eyes locked on the struggling yak. He saw Rakia’s effort as she clung to the beast’s shoulder, her jaws locked in a death grip. The sight of the blood staining the snow beneath the yak only heightened his resolve. The chase was nearing its end. He could see the yak’s movements becoming labored, each step more desperate than the last. With the other’s fierce grips weakening the beast, Aristaios knew the moment had come. He pushed himself harder, muscles straining as he closed the remaining distance.

With a powerful leap, Aristaios aimed for the yak’s exposed throat, his jaws wide and ready to deliver the killing blow. His teeth sank into the thick hide, and he felt the satisfying crunch as he bit down with all his strength. The yak bellowed in pain, its body shuddering under the combined assault of the group of wolves. It fell.

Aristaios’s grip was unyielding, his powerful jaws clamped tight. He could feel the life force draining from the yak, its struggles growing weaker. As the yak’s final breath escaped, Aristaios released his hold, his chest heaving with exertion.


""

The wolves' teamwork was immaculate, their precision lethal and their efficiency like that of a well oiled machine. The four predators had the yak run down in no time, and coupled with its blood loss from the numerous wounds across its legs and body, soon the animal was collapsing to the snowy ground, never to rise again. One of the other wolves, a patchwork brute, went for the killing blow, latching onto the yak's heaving throat like a piranha to end its time in this world. Azrael slowed his gait from a run to a canter, almost prancing up alongside the dying animal with a look of approval on his face while he watched the animal succumb to its wounds. Once it was dead, the hunting party would pack up and move on to the next kill.

"Azrael Saxe"