eye of the tiger - or newt, or whatever we can find

Luce didn’t argue with his thought, not that he expected her to. Sometimes he wondered who was in charge of who. The lines were blurred so much now he felt like he was a part of the Klein Shamyn. There was nothing else in the world he wanted to do than care for Lucretia. He did manage to pull a little smile out of her and he softly wagged his tail and gazed upon her lovingly. He tried to be easy going for her, and urged her to slow down when she pushed herself too far.

They were fine right now, well rested though a little hungry. That was the best way to be when hunting. Didn’t let you forget why you were doing what you’re doing. He caught the scent of boar as Luce did, and his small form tensed. His fur bristled as his pale eyes searched the underbrush. Before he could react much more the creature realized it was no longer alone and instead of taking off it attacked.

Bourbon was torn between looking out for Luce and keeping his own hide safe, but her movement was enough to assure the dog he needed to move. The boar’s ominous tusks missed him by a hair’s breadth. He pivoted to face the boar as Luce did. He wore a huge grin and felt heartened how easily his mistress took to taking on their prey. Bourbon was alight, he balanced on his toes as he began to bark at the violent creature.

He shifted to the left, trying to distract the pig so Lucretia could have a better side to aim at. He was also mindful of keeping her out of danger. She had enough to deal with without adding injury. Bourbon was a confident dog, and didn’t let the thought of his own injury cross his mind. He was too quick for that. He weaved carefully back and forth with the boar, dancing away from harm as he harried it without cease.

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