this summer's going to the dogs.

Barrett · 07-12-2011, 05:29 PM

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If there were any doubts the moose had caught onto their little scheme, they were quickly erased. The animal hurried along uphill with increasing urgency, but the Dreamers were at an advantage—they had their downhill momentum to help carry them over the next ridge that much faster, and they were more nimble on their feet. They wove through the orchard like wraiths, slowly but surely closing the distance between them and their target.

He spared a quick glance over his shoulder and nodded for them to fan out so they could surround their quarry. He veered to the left and pushed harder than before, sending tiny pebbles and other bits of detritus flying from the ground whenever his feet contacted the earth. Each bound brought him closer, and when the timing seemed right, he leapt.

His fangs caught old of the beasts' haunch and briefly, he tasted blood. She was too strong yet, however, and as she bucked against his weight he was forced to surrender his meagre hold. He catapulted through the air a short distance and landed in a crouch on his feet, then sprung forward in the same motion. The scent of the sanguine liquid radiated from the moose's fresh wound to fill the air, fuelling him onward in another charge.

He had lost a couple seconds recovering from her throws, but his attack had caused her steps to falter, too. These precious moments could be critical to their success. No doubt the others would strike soon, and when they did, each successive hit would be better placed and more severe than the last. He dashed along to catch up, paying careful attention to each of their positions—as well as the moose's hooves. Desperate animals could become violent, and a swift kick from her would hardly be trivial.

<3! Okay, let's wear her down. Someone feel free to PP Barrett making more strikes, too. Next round starts on the 22nd!

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