In the turn of a moment, Leera was close. So close, in fact, that the flecks of snow that were thrown up by the elk's thundering hooves stung her face. All the while, she kept her head tucked in, her ears flat against her ashen crown. Her time being collaborative with Nephthys was done -- this was a competition, wasn't it? It was time to make her own moves.
She kept her wits about her when the first scent of blood reached her nostrils. It had been her partner who, by the grace of long limbs, had reached out and bitten into the thick hide. Leera could see it, too, the blood of the beast, the bright rivulets oozing from broken tissue. Her lolling tongue slid across her lips, but that was the end of it. She couldn't get distracted now.
With a contraction of muscles, Leera lunged at the elk's flank with teeth glinting. She knew this was a dangerous choice -- elk were notorious kickers and could kill a wolf with a single blow -- but she had no other choice. The desperation to outperform Nephthys mixed with her lust for the hunt was enough to make her do many things that weren't entirely smart.
But her teeth caught the flank, and she locked her jaw and held on, letting the weight of her body offset the elk's movements. There was a great bellow that came from the beast, and Leera could see the whites of its eyes, but she held tight. Canines clamped down, she tried to pull the rump of the elk down so that the fatal bite to the throat could be delivered.
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
