deer? no. pronghorn. same thing, right?

Now that spring had sprung, the north was coming to life. Animals of all sorts were heading toward the grassier areas as the snow melted into the rivers. Just north of Armada lands and beyond the wall, the flat plains littered with pines sparsely laid out caught the attention of a wolf. With winter behind her, snow storms were no longer a threat. She didn't feel the fear she felt at the sight of snow falling from the sky anymore. As long as she marked her path away from pack lands, she knew she would be able to get back. And the first thing she wanted to do was prove that she could hunt and hunt successfully. She wasn't weak or stupid, just... inexperienced.

All she wanted to do was belong somewhere and if that meant risking life and limb to bring back a large prize, she would do it. Her muscle definition was coming back, fat was returning to her form, and she was no longer exhausted after walking a mile or so. She could run and run fast, but not quite as fast as the animal she now stalked. Lowered to the ground, elbows scraping the dirt, she used her chocolate brown coat to slink along the tree trunks for cover. Not that there was much cover in this area, but if she was patient enough, she should be able to get close.

Just when she thought she had a chance, bursting from behind the cover of a tree, the pronghorns galloped away as if the ground beneath them were clouds. Letting out a huff of frustration, she circled back around to her grouping of trees to recalculate her approach. The pronghorn were obviously way too fast for her alone. What was she to do?