lend a hand, my deer?

it’s only been a few days since their last hunt with that large gruff man, but Spider can’t deny they’d made for a brutal, efficient team. so as they eye the whitetail deer grazing a few paces away and catch scent of that same man on the wind - does he live around here? he had smelt of pack - Spider glances about for a flash of that gunmetal pelt. it’s become an addiction, the blank of their mind as they hunt down their latest quarry, the adrenaline and predatory intent burning through their veins like liquid flame. it’s certainly preferable to loping around their den, feeling sorry for themselves. waiting until they meet his eyes, Spider inclines their head at the man in a silent request: care for round two, big guy?

"Speech"