Arcanum Hunt: A code of duty and honor

The wolf, the yearling leading the hunt, claimed they would be aiming to take down two bull elk, and a vicious grin split the black wolf's muzzle as he stared at her, barely throttling down the mocking words that threatened to bubble up. She really thought that six wolves, however able-bodied they may be, and one gimp-legged prisoner would take down two bull elk at once? And only they were to eat the prey they took? The scavengers were going to be feasting, then, because there's no way they'd eat two full grown elk between them before the meat spoiled. It was autumn, not the depths of winter, and they were in the south.

He stretched with a deliberately languid yawn, then ghosted away - surprisingly quietly for such a heavy beast, but then again he'd been training to hunt as long as he'd been training to fight so it wasn't like he'd not picked up on it - toward his... assigned position without otherwise acknowledging the plan. Once there he lay on his belly, sphinx-like and relaxed, just waiting.

Finally the rumble of hooves met his ears, the chasers driving the elk toward their positions, and Hati drew himself up into a crouch. His yellow eyes watched carefully, judging the distance between himself and the elk Kaneyna was driving, until finally...

He launched himself out of his crouch, before the startled beast could register his presence. His fangs buried themselves in the elk's nose, one canine cracking through the edge of the bone as his jaws closed over it and pinched shut the nostrils. He let his momentum carry him past the big deer's chest, to his shoulder and out of direct stomping-range, and his weight dragged the elk's head around with him. The beast let out a muffled bawl, faltering and stumbling to it's knees as it's own momentum vied with the hundred-fifty pound weight on it's face. Hati kept on the pressure, digging in and dragging backward even as the beast tried to shake his head. It was already beginning to scramble back to its feet, and Hati hoped grimly that the yearling or one of the others would get her ass in gear and tear out its throat before it was able to stand and drag him back into range of those wicked hooves and stomp him into a bloody smear.


OOC: Sorry I missed the last deadline, left it for the last minute and then ended up losing internet for a couple days.



"Speech"

And besides in the meantime
I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart