When in Doubt, We Cull

Sericea’s assessment of the sickly ewe was spot on- she knew what needed to be done, and was ready to take action. Good. Zagan straightened himself up, standing with his usual confidence- relaxed, but purposeful. His gaze moved back to her, settling on her face- steady and unwavering, as he assessed her expression.

There was a hint of uncertainty in her gaze- a flicker of hesitancy that made him question her ability to carry out the task. In the face of her uncertainty, Zagan stood as a pillar of strength- his shoulder jutting out to press into hers- his presence meant to settle her uneasiness. “Then let’s go.” His lips twisted at the corners- a brief flicker of emotion- as he was excited by the thought of slaughtering something with Seri. He imagines her little body coated in blood and sinew- her lithe tongue cleaning the sheep out of her claws- the little smirk she might have after tearing it apart.

Stalking down the mountainside, Zagan’s movements are purposeful and deliberate- he’s not trying to conceal himself as they approach the sheep herd- but he moves with a predator's grace. One that prevents spreading panic in the herd. “Go on, Seri.” He commands, cocking his head in her direction. “Separate the sick one.” He falls back, waiting for her to complete the task.

"Zagan Saxe"