caravan blues

The Memoire girl offered enough of a distraction with the dying doe and her noisy alarm that she was able to watch Morgan shove the big tom off of herself and far enough away to regain her footing. The lion wasn’t done yet though, and his hungry eyes were trained on their kill despite his bleeding wounds and weakened limbs. Twig mock charged the beast as Morgan vocally abused it, the young she wolf didn’t miss the blood on her partner either. Now that both she wolves were focused on the cat his gaze was starting to look much more doubtful.

She saw Morgan charge and Autumn followed suit, her smaller form charging forward. Hackles raised, teeth bared and eyes wild as she snapped her teeth at the large cat. Morgan made an easy swipe, not something that would have chased him off earlier before their first contact. He didn’t need much more convincing and the cat suddenly turned tail and raced away from the two she wolves and their kill. With their victory confirmed Twig allowed herself to relax and take in the emotions. They were successful in both their hunt and defending their hunt.

The Memoire girl lifted her head proudly and nodded, ”We did, congratulations.” Her breath was a little labored, adrenaline still raced through her veins. She trotted carefully back over to the kill, her senses still heightened. She didn’t know if the cat might still come back. The doe was dead by now, and the majority of her pelt could be harvested as well. With winter around the corner the hide could help warm a den. ”So, how should we divide our spoils?”

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