Hunter By Trade, Mother By Accident

Adrenaline coursing in her system, Hazel watches as things fall into place. All of the moving pieces, all of the important parts of the hunt. The bull had been cut off from the herd. Yes, it was the herd that would come together to try and defend him, but it was also the herd that would panic. It was already starting, the noise and the confusion starting to kick up around her. Hazel was electrified, alive with it. Beautiful, gorgeous chaos rising up around her. Rising up to greet her. Rising up to make her feel alive. Enchanting. Wonderful.

She moves quickly. Keeping the rest of the herd pressed back, moving to nip at their heels and push them farther and farther from their beloved bull. A growl in her throat, in her chest. The glinting of her crystalline fangs in the afternoon sunlight. All of Hazel seems to glimmer and shift when she's like this, alight and alive. She was fulfilling her duty, working in time with Zoey to pressure the herd off so the rest of their cohort could do their work. So many moving parts, but all of them were important. All of them were necessary. They'd make quick work of this and have a good dinner.

"Speech"