Come on, girls, are you ready to play?

Redrum's hunting party moved with brutal precision, their jaws tearing and biting into the bull's thick hide, opening wound after wound. Blood matted their muzzles, dripping from their jaws as they surrounded the beast, each strike measured to sap its strength. Each beginning a new ribbon of blood sends spattering to the ground. The bull's breathing grew labored, nostrils flaring with each panicked exhale, its powerful legs beginning to tremble as exhaustion took hold. Every heave of its chest weakened it further, its leg’s beginning to fail; and Redrum could feel its will starting to fracture.

With one final desperate lunge, the bull stumbled, its hooves catching on uneven ground. It crashed to its knees, bellowing weakly, eyes wide as it’s flight response pleaded with its vessel to keep running. Redrum wasted no time.

He lunged forward, seizing the bull's throat in a merciless grip, his golden eyes flashing with wicked delight. He held his gaze on his pack, beckoning them to finish the kill, to keep bleeding it.