Walking Tall

Mitros listened intently to the plan, nodding as Ignis warned them against the powerful kick of it's hooves. They sure did look like they could pack a punch, with that much length and strong enough bones to support it's massive weight and height, Mitros assumed any hoof would push through his skull like butter. Roles were then assigned and accepted, and as Ignis explained where his place would be, Mitros merely blinked. The back?? The legs he had been warned of? Glancing around, his nerves began to build. He was the youngest wolf here, literally having aged into a yearling days ago. Was it a compliment that he was placed beside the full grown skilled male, or a punishment for the way he'd eyed Medusa?

Mitros couldn't consider it too long for the hunt began. He could not afford to hesitate, and so he accepted the role and Ignis' wisdom in assigning it. These wolves all had more experience then he did in his short few seasons of life - surely he'd been placed here for a reason. Mirroring Ignis' assault on the rear, the blue boy moved in from the other side.

The giraffe was panicked at the harassment and already blood had filled the air where some of the hunters had found purchase with tooth or knife. Mitros waited for the right moment when the giraffe's foot was solidly upon the ground, watching the way he moved his body and waiting until it had begun to kick out with it's front - if it's front hooves were lashing out, it's back hooves would need to remain to stabilize it. Lunging forward, he enclosed his massive jaws around it's heel above the hoof, crunching them down as hard as he could to slice at the sensitive ligaments and then backpedled, returning to a safe distance from which he could dodge.

"Speech"