I spoke to god today

Enyo’s grip remained unwavering despite the fierce kicks that pummeled her. The buck’s frantic thrashing rattled her muscles, but she was unyielding. She had tasted victory in the metallic tang of blood now coating her tongue, and it fueled her even more. She held firm as the beast fought for its life.

A snarl rumbled from her chest, reverberating through her clenched jaws. She could feel Atticus taking his place in the hunt as his teeth sank into the buck’s muzzle. His move was strategic and precise. The young male was quick to follow her lead, securing the buck's head, ensuring the creature couldn’t break free. The tension between predator and prey was palpable. Enyo's fiery, calculating eyes flicked toward her brother, noting the way he had locked the buck’s head in place. It was a moment of clarity amidst the chaos. His positioning created an opening....an opportunity for Enyo to finish the hunt.

With a powerful shift of her weight, she readied herself. Her muscular legs, thick and built for this very moment, coiled like springs. She felt the full force of the buck's desperation beneath her, but the deer's struggle was futile. Enyo was born for battle, for the kill. In one explosive motion, she surged upward, releasing the buck’s hind leg for just a split second. It was all she needed. Her body twisted in mid-air, as she launched herself toward the exposed neck of the buck.

Once her paws landed, her jaws found their mark. The powerful muscles in her neck and shoulders activated as her teeth pierced the buck's throat. Her grip was merciless... The taste of blood flooded her senses, a fitting reward for her efforts. She could feel the buck’s life ebbing away beneath her. Every time it tried to resist, Enyo would jerk, using her paws to pull back. The kicks weakened. Another kick would come and she would repeat it until she felt the trachea shatter. The resistance faltered.

Enyo, gave a final wrench of her head, ensuring the kill. Ripping a chunk of throat out in the process. She went for another bite, you could never be too thorough. She loosened her grip only when the buck’s body slumped to the earth, lifeless, its struggles reduced to nothing more than a fading tremor. Her chest and face were saturated with crimson, having been painted by the splatter and fountain of blood that continued to leak from the gaping wound in the buck's throat.

Panting slightly, she stepped back with an air of triumph. Of satisfaction. Her silver-blue eyes locked onto Atticus. There was no need for words, this is what they were made for. A hunt well-executed. And another reminder of the unstoppable force that was the Dunamis.

"Very well done brother. That was a catharsis I didn't know I needed.", she would give him one final look before digging into the flesh, "Let us feast. We can bring the rest to the others."


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4/3 Hunt Medium Animal 2+

"SPEECH"