Rawhide [PACK HUNT!]

Kassander sat up, shaking his head dazedly. That was a close call, but if he'd learned anything from his time bouncing from pack to pack, hunting with and observing each one, it was that close calls were only to be expected when hunting big game. Close calls were almost a game themselves with Crew, after all. He made a quick mental check of his physical state and decided that he'd live, so even before Rommel reached him the auburn male clambered to his paws with a wince. Yes, he would certainly be feeling that one. Walk it off, Xanilov.

Carefully he worked his way back up to a sprint, slowly enough to make sure the badly bruised muscle in his shoulder wasn't going to knot up and send him sprawling. Nothing was broken or sprained, so he should be fine. Might even make for a good test of some of his new concoctions later. Finally he made it back up to a full sprint, and cut in across to intercept the rest of the group. The other three had gained grips on the buffalo and were beginning to slow it down, which helped him catch up. Taking Lark's place at the beast's hindquarters - though off to the side rather than straight behind, so it would be a little harder to be kicked again - he set himself to clamp down on the bison's rear tendon. Rommel darted out in front of the young buffalo, shrieking that weird fox battlecry and snapping at its nose. Even at his height and weight, unusual for a fox, he would not be able to drag the bison down like a wolf would if he got hold of it's tender nose, but he made for an efficient distraction and the slicing of the sharp little teeth combined with the weight of the other three was throwing the bison back in confusion. In this moment of hesitation Kassander was able to obtain that bite, slicing through the tendon and crippling the leg so the yearling bawled and sagged down.

Now! Now would be the time for those in front to end it. This buffalo would make for more than a simple, single meal for a pack as small as Abaven. But he pushed aside thoughts of tanning buffalo hide, ignored the tantalizing ways he could use buffalo horns and bones, buried thoughts about ways to preserve this much meat if they could not finish it before it went bad... It was not quite over, and any distraction could spell death for himself, his companion, or the other three hunters. Instead he grimly bit down again, switching to the other leg, to try to gain a grip that would hold the bison down long enough for his packmates to finish it off.