The Name of the Game (is pronghorn)

The trio needed something larger to fill their guts with than the hares and fish she’d been catching. Sure, it would make do, but the Archer men were...well...men, and she was quite a large wolf. It wasn’t something she could do often, she knew this because she’d scouted the area around where they were staying and had found only one area to the west of their camp that held larger prey species, a nice little gully with plenty of deer nibbling away, fattening up just for her.

It was about a two day trek to this hotspot, further than she would have liked from the last place she’d seen Scully, but it was a necessity so she pushed her worry to the side. It wouldn’t do them any good if they weren’t well fed anyways. So, they’d made the journey. Elle was pleased to see that the herds hadn’t migrated since her last scouting mission, still munching away on the surprisingly green grass. Judas and Ramiel had wanted to do some more exploring and she’d consented with a sigh. She’d taken down prey on the small side of medium before, perhaps she’d get lucky and could get herself a meal for the evening.

Settling behind a nearby bush downwind from a small herd of pronghorns, her persian gaze scanned them one by one to try and distinguish the weakest link.