White-butt-not-deer

Percy had been keeping herself busy, with so many little bodies around (oh gosh she was worried about stepping on one, even if some of them were quickly shooting up to almost match her height), she had been diligently keeping an eye on their food stores. With so many mouths to feed, it was almost a full time job. With the change of season, she knew she would have to mindful to dedicate some time to helping the healers gather stores before the snows set in too, but for now, well, she could have sworn she caught a familiar scent on the breeze, and something in her broken brain told her it wouldn’t be around for long.

A thoughtful brow drew down, a quick glance upward (even though she knew she wouldn’t see Theo, clinging to the back of her neck like he did), and an almost pensive "What’s that smell?" offered to her companion, though she doubted he would answer her. He never did anymore when he thought the answer was too obvious. "Somethin’ you’ll need backup t’bring down," the squirrel chirped, attempting to caution the young wolf off it.

But she just wanted to see what it was, to try and dig out a name to match the scent, and figure out why she knew it would be gone soon. She climbed to the top of the falls, that would eventually run onto the plains where that other pack lived. A long line of antlered beasts with white butts spread out, moving towards the redbud nook where that other pack had suddenly sprung up. Anxiety built in her chest, somehow, she knew this was a migration, but one of those would keep them going for a few days. If she howled from here, it would alert the other packs too, and while there was no shortage of white-butt-not-deer (oh gosh those antlers looked scary), she didn’t want to spark an accidental feud over who deserved what (she seemed to remember something similar happening when she was younger, with prey similar to these).

She scanned the herd, there were younger ones, and older ones, ones with limps and healthy ones. "Don’t even think about it!" The squirrel cautioned as her respiration rate increased and her heart began to thunder in her chest. She could feel Theo tightening his grip in her fur, almost hear his little teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw. One of the mothers had spotted her an raised an alarm, the herd milling to move the young ones away from the wolf, increasing their pace as they went. It was opening a gap between the healthy and the weak.

One had already been targeted by something recently. Flies swarmed around a wound on its shoulder, a visible dip with every step it took. It was still a super ambitious target and she might have had more hope if she had the height and weight of a dire wolf, but she couldn’t just let this chance slip away (not realising there were many more caribou to come and she could have walked back to the dens and hand picked her hunters, they’d probably still be trailing through tomorrow).

With spring loaded surety though, she leapt forward, Theo’s chants of "Bad idea! Bad idea!" setting a cadence to her strides. Bellows rose, hooves thundered and Percy only had eyes for the one old cow with her injured shoulder. She knew better than to come at the beast head on, easily closing the distance with her unhindered gait. She needed to get it away from the rest of them. A snarl, and a snap sent it careening off in the direction she wanted, but she failed to make a mark. Her breath was coming cold and sharp into her lungs, sapping the energy from her faster than she had remembered during the warmer months, but her frustration only spurred her on. She gained a grip on a meaty thigh, teeth tearing flesh and blood filling her mouth. The not-deer pulled her along behind it though, her determination and the strength of her bite the only thing keeping her from loosing her quarry. She was starting to see stars, her grip slipped and a sharp hooved foot glanced off the side of her ribs, winding her, the blow causing her to drop to the ground gasping, pain radiating from her flank. It would bruise beautifully beneath her black coat. She forced herself to her feet, breath coming in short sharp gulps but never quite getting into her lungs. The Caribou was still separated from it’s herd, and they were now closer to the falls than the borders. Her lungs finally filled again and she tipped her head back to call on any nearby hunters. She might have failed alone, but maybe together they could finish bringing the injured cow down.

"Percy". "Theo".