One Fist of Iron, One Fist of Steel

Éldi tracked the herd of whitetail to the southeast. Prey had been on the move lately and seemed to be pushing farther south. There could be a number of reasons for this. For one, autumn was moving into Boreas and winter would be right at its heels. For another there seemed to be an increase in the number of large cats in the area and it was no doubt disturbing the preys usual movements. It certainly set Éldi on edge. He didn't like having competition for prey, let alone competition that might fix him into a meal. He hoped to die gloriously on the battlefield, not by going through a big cats digestive system.

Of course, not all cats were bad. He glanced at Kaler, his bobcat companion, who stalked through the mix of lush grasses that were soon to turn gold. Askr was scouting from the sky. He let out a call to signal that the herd had stopped to feed. Éldi hunkered down in the grasses, seeking to observe the herd as he tried to work out a plan of attack. Taking full grown prey by himself was an incredibly difficult task before he'd befriend Kaler. Between the two of them they managed to do alright but he really wished he had another good set of jaws to put to this task.