A Yak of All Trades.

The thrill of the hunt drives the dark man on, pulling him away from Syndicate lands and out to where the familiar group of hunters had gathered. It is easy for him to fall in line, dutifully following the pink and gray woman across the land as his nose pulls in the scents of all the nearby prey. Zeke zeros in on the earthy musk of a yak and it seems that the party has the same idea as they angle in the direction of the scent.

They move toward where their victim waits, hoofprints appearing on the blinding white canvas of snow and marble as they track the yak, each mentally readying to take down the creature. Mouth waters with the anticipation of the kill to come, not focused on the meat or pelt but the actual moment that death will close its icy grip around the animal. Duel-toned eyes flick over to their leader, silently questioning the plan without saying a word.


"Ezekiel Saxe"