Carryout

Gryphon prowled through the dried-out grasses of the plains. He was near what was left of a normally-full creek. The creekbed was mostly barren now except for a rivulet in the center, but there were a few spots here and there large enough to be worth drinking at for the herds. He was watching a small herd of blackbuck drinking there now, thirsty enough to not be so wary as they usually were. There were't many of them, just the buck with three does and a couple first-year doelings, so they had fewer eyes and ears to keep watch for danger. There wasn't much time before they drank their fill and moved on, so if he wanted to get one, he'd need to move fast.

But not too fast - he was careful to back away slowly so he didn't rustle the dried grass too much, until he was at a safe distance where he could observe them without disturbing them, then raised his muzzle and called for the pack's other hunters. He couldn't get one of these things alone. They were fast, way too fast for him to catch even one of the doelings on this open ground, without an ambush. And an ambush just wasn't likely to happen for a solo wolf in this wide-open area.

Keeping an eye on the blackbucks, he settled in to wait. Hopefully the other hunters showed up in good time. The pack needed feeding.