The grass isn't greener

As always in a hunt, everything happened all at once. There was little time for planning beyond the initial ones - once they set into motion they could either see it through it give up entirely, and Bronze wasn't the giving up type. He lunged for the sheep, scrambling over rocks and debris to try to pin it down while it fought for its life beneath him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Celeste heading their way, aiming for the sheep's throat. Its screams weren't lost on him but symbolized their hunt was coming to a close, and he allowed himself to relax his grip on their prey and slowly pull away as it bled out.

Success. If he was the smiling type he'd be beaming by now, but instead he gave the near-stranger a slow nod of acknowledgment. "Guess we do," he agreed, trying to catch his breath. Without hesitating for long he settled down near the prey animal's flanks readying himself to tear into one of its meaty back legs first. There was more than enough food for the both of them and would no doubt lay to be picked clean by scavengers after they left. "Name's Bronze, by the way."