Rain on your parade

Though no formal plan had been made nor any tactical details discussed, the two wolves seemed to work in perfect tandem together as mother and son divided and conquered. While Saracyn launched himself like a crimson missile straight for the isolated goat, Manea worked to keep the rest of the herd from coming to its aid, further singling it out and sealing its doom. Saracyn didn't notice though; he was far too focused on taking down his quarry. The heavy rain whipped into his eyes aided by the gale force winds, making it tricky to see, but not impossible. Under the darkness of the stormy sky that turned day into perpetual twilight, Sara ran down the goat, the poor stupid creature far too slow in its movements to hope to get away. It took under a minute for Saracyn to be upon it, and then it was all over.

With a vicious snarl that growled out above the rumble of thunder, Saracyn launched himself at the goat, powerful hind legs kicking off the rocky ground to propel himself straight into the hapless prey animal. The goat bleated when it felt Saracyn's paws and sharp claws dig into its fleshy sides, the wolf securing his hold on his smaller victim while powerful jaws parted, aimed for the back of the goat's neck. He secured his hold with one brutal bite, feeling the goat crumple under his weight and the bones in its vertebrae snap and shift with one strong crunch. And just like that, the hunt was over. The goat's body spasmed as it died instantaneously, the brain cut off from the rest of the body in one fell swoop. The predator had won his meal.

Unfortunately for Saracyn, though the hunt had ended, the challenge had not. He'd propelled himself with such force, and the goat had been a very lightweight impact, and Newton's laws were still in motion, meaning the red-furred yearling continued to hurdle forward after he had tackled the goat, sending both predator and prey sailing through the air to hit the edge of the cliff. With his motion and the slick rain-covered surface of the smooth rock, Saracyn didn't stop on impact. Instead, he slid and rolled, plummeting right off the edge of the cliff. All the adolescent wolf knew though was that one moment he was in the air, the next his shoulder was hitting the ground, and then he was in the air again, falling. He felt the lurch of his guts as he fell, unable to even yelp or cry out in surprise with the goat in his jaws, leaving Saracyn to fall off the ledge and out of sight virtually silently as a clap of thunder dramatically punctuated his fall out of sight and into oblivion.

Saracyn fell for maybe a few seconds, but to him it felt like an eternity, watching the world pass by in slow motion while he was weightless in the air. His brain scrambled to try to think of ways to save himself, but came up empty. The next thing he felt was his back meeting hard rock, smacking into another ledge a few yards down and continuing to tumble. He grunted with each impact he took, tumbling down the near sheer drop a few dozen more feet before hitting another small ledge that crumbled under the impact of his body, sending him falling again. Sara clutched the goat in his arms, using it like an airbag to try and absorb some of the impact to his squishy underbelly. His back and sides took the brunt of the fall, tumbling and rolling down the rocky ledges as they angled out until he hit the ground and came to rest on a plateau about 40 feet down from where he fell. His whole body ached, his muscles felt stiff and sore, and he had several new lacerations and bruises, but he was alive. Lying sprawled out and still on the rocky ground, being pelted by the rain, but alive. For a while, Saracyn didn't move, simply lying there, gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of his lungs and trying to get his head to stop spinning.

"Saracyn Mendacium"