Obtuse, Guava Juice, Rubber Goose, Chocolate Moose

Aristaios felt the familiar rush of the hunt as he moved swiftly through the snow, his focus sharp. He saw her dart from cover, sinking her claws into the moose’s shoulder. Seizing the moment, he lunged forward, jaws wide. The moose’s fear was palpable, its movements frantic. As he closed in, Aristaios aimed for its throat, his powerful jaws locking onto the vulnerable spot. He felt another impact, then another near him: but with his face full of moose and fur and blood who could really tell? He focused his attention on being a weight, heavy and unyielding to bring the creature down. He would have little issue with any hits he took, because he was accustomed to being battered and bruised.


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