7/25/2025, 4:57 PM
(This post was last modified: 7/25/2025, 4:57 PM by Grey Shrike.)
She doesn't listen. Bitterly, angrily, he's convinced that women never fucking listen. With a huff of a snarl, Grey veers off to the right flank of the young elk, slipping between rows and rows of tree trunks, ever the careful not to trip along root and underbrush.
There's a raven's caw, followed by a dark shadow that swoops from the treetops. There's Sharadoii watched in mild annoyance as the woman has to rely on a pesky bird to help her hunt. He should be grateful, perhaps. And he would have, should she had stuck with his plan.
With a stumble, the elk falters. Stutters in its steps, nearly trips over its own hooves. It is then he lunges from the shade of the trees to collide with the beast's strong chest. Claws hooking into flesh, spittle flying from his parted jaws before they find their mark on the elk's throat.
Using his weight, Grey Shrike swings the beast to fall. It collapses with a puff of dirt and pine needles, its bellow echoing throughout the stillness of the forest. His growls are muffled against its throat as he squeezes, thrashes, tugs. It kicks and fights, but it's outnumbered.
It stills after a while. Its beady eyes glazing over listlessly, its final breath a wheeze. Grey drops its throat with a scoff. He didn't want her help, nor did he need it.
He does not thank her. The selfish part of him wants to chase her away from the carcass. But he allows her to stay.
There's a raven's caw, followed by a dark shadow that swoops from the treetops. There's Sharadoii watched in mild annoyance as the woman has to rely on a pesky bird to help her hunt. He should be grateful, perhaps. And he would have, should she had stuck with his plan.
With a stumble, the elk falters. Stutters in its steps, nearly trips over its own hooves. It is then he lunges from the shade of the trees to collide with the beast's strong chest. Claws hooking into flesh, spittle flying from his parted jaws before they find their mark on the elk's throat.
Using his weight, Grey Shrike swings the beast to fall. It collapses with a puff of dirt and pine needles, its bellow echoing throughout the stillness of the forest. His growls are muffled against its throat as he squeezes, thrashes, tugs. It kicks and fights, but it's outnumbered.
It stills after a while. Its beady eyes glazing over listlessly, its final breath a wheeze. Grey drops its throat with a scoff. He didn't want her help, nor did he need it.
He does not thank her. The selfish part of him wants to chase her away from the carcass. But he allows her to stay.
The pelt is mine.It was not a question, but a demand.
![[Image: 105170987_8vh1V0p1ZUIsTCL.png]](https://f2.toyhou.se/file/f2-toyhou-se/images/105170987_8vh1V0p1ZUIsTCL.png)
common • sharadoii
Rourke is welcome in all threads.