A Yak of All Trades.

The chaos of the hunt was an addictive symphony, and Rakia was its conductor. Her muscles ached sweetly, adrenaline flooding her veins as she skillfully evaded the thrashing hooves of their prey. She could hear the yelps of her companions, their barks echoing in her ears and blending with the panicked lows of the yak. Her heart pounded with every leap and dodge, the thrill fuelling her movements.

She just fucking went for it. Once she was in range Rakia, leapt with as much strength as she could muster to cling to the Yak’s shoulder- as close to its topline as she could manage. Her teeth sank into the rough hide, her paws hooking onto the matted fur. The world turned upside down for a brief moment as she clung stubbornly, the brute trying to buck her off with violent shakes of its body. But Rakia held on, her jaws locked in a death grip. Blood seeped from the wound she had inflicted, staining the snow beneath.

The chase was nearing its end; she could see it in the way the yak’s movements were becoming labored, each step more desperate than the next. If she could just hold on a little longer, perhaps the others could make it to the kill blow.

"Rakia Perreau"