Bloody Your Teeth For The Good Of The Pack

While the ideal way to bring down the massive, shaggy ox would be to run the creature until it is overheated and tired, the tight, twisting quarters that find themselves in means the hunting party is forced to adapt their techniques. By surrounding the beast, they can force it to move where they wish while wearing down and that will help them effectively controlling the battle. Duel-toned eyes scan the group, taking in their expression as they each call out where they will be focusing. With a dip of her head, Tove’s gravely, rough voice once again raises to whisper, “Úlfr, make sure that it doesn’t try to wedge itself into a corner.”

If the creature manages to get into a corner, the musk ox will be able to protect its back and force the hunting party to only attack it head on. Tove does not wish for a drawn out, bloody hunt and she absolutely refuses to return with injured wolves so they will need to keep the animal out in the open. As one, the group moves, sweeping out from the tunnel and into the wider space and the older, scarred woman charges forward, allowing the others to break off and settle into position. Racing up to and past the ox, she spins around in front of the creature to cut off its path.

Growls roll from her maw and her fur bristles as the woman draws the prey animal’s attention to herself so that the others can freely take up their positions. Duel-toned eyes dart left and right, checking on others progress as she slowly presses forward, pushing the large beast back into the wider area so that they can attack more freely. Now, the battle begins.


"Tove Baade"