Bye Son

Alastor had been wondering how Manea planned to get the herd to start moving and separate. The bison were big and dumb, but being big had given them the evolutionary nature of not being afraid of many predators. One wolf would be difficult to get them startled, and he wondered if Manea planned on just waltzing right up to a calf to start the chaos. As it turned out, she instead sprung in for a cow, biting at its femur and making the greatest bellow in fright. The chase was on, and Alastor watched with giddy excitement as the herd started rushing around in chaos. He caught sight of flashes of violet fur every so often so he knew Manea was still okay, her ravens circling overhead to keep an eye out for her in the stampede. The creatures were dangerous when whipped into a frenzy and the last thing he wanted was for something to happen to his entire reason for existence.

Once Manea had thoroughly distracted the bulls, leaving the cows to lumber away with their calves, Alastor bared his dagger-like teeth in a wicked grin and rushed into the fray. He sprinted around the opposite side of the herd, sharklike eyes scanning the calves until he picked out one of the younger males lagging behind the group, its shorter legs not yet fully developed enough to hit a full stride. That little filet would be their meal! Turning in toward the calf, Alastor raced towards it, narrowly dodging a cow that saw him and tried to rush him. He ran up to the calf, jaws opened wide to sink his deadly fangs into its tender hamstrings, thrashing to tear through muscle and sinew in a gush of hot blood. The calf gave a squeaking bellow and nearly toppled over, now limping along and making it far too easy for Alastor to jump to its next leg and repeat the process, fully handicapping the calf.

The calf lay half sprawled across the prairie grass, bleeding from two ragged wounds in the backs of its legs. It could no longer run or put any weight on its hind legs, leaving it to try and drag itself away from the wolves in a pitiful display. The cow that had tried to stop him rushed him again to try and protect its baby, but Alastor deftly skirted to the side, snapping at the bison's knees as it passed, then turned and feigned a charge for another calf. The cow ran to try and block the wolf from taking a second kill, and Alastor casually broke away, trotting victoriously back to the now abandoned calf. He met the mother's gaze with a sick smirk of triumph, seeing the beast's dilemma of whether it tried to stop the dire wolf from finishing his kill or protecting the rest of the calves. In the end, the cow snorted and ran off to protect the remaining younglings, abandoning the crippled calf to its inevitable fate.

Alastor grinned a disturbing smile while he watched the herd take off, howling for Manea to cease harassing the herd and come join him. He would need her help butchering this tasty morsel. Oh, but first things first! Alastor climbed onto the back of the struggling calf, listening to it shout in pain and terror. Although still very much a juvenile, it had already begun to build up a decent layer of fat around its neck in preparation for the coming winter. This would not be a quick or clean kill. Craning his neck down to the bison's, Alastor sunk his fangs into the prey animal's flesh. The calf screamed in pain and tried to buck the wolf off of him, but Alastor dug his claws into the bison's back. The dire brute bit down in its neck again and again, tearing flesh and fat away until his teeth met the hard edge of bone. He snarled and snapped his jaws down around the animal's spine, biting with all his strength until he felt the bones crack and split apart, breaking into pieces like a stick.

The bison spasmed and collapsed to the ground, its body slowly dying while its mind remained conscious all the way through. He stood atop his kill like the grim reaper, watching as the life slowly left the young herbivore beneath him. Abyssal obsidian eyes peered up to find Manea, grinning a huge bloody smile while he gestured to the animal with a large paw, inviting her to have the honors of ending its life or watching it slowly die as it failed to control its lungs enough to breathe, whichever she preferred.


"Alastor"