this summer's going to the dogs.

Ghita Marino · 07-28-2011, 04:20 PM

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Really not sure why these keep coming out short, but I apologize again.

The tail end of the battle was short lived, her mind fading in an out from attention to the flaring pain that shot through her shoulder. She didn't know when the moose went down, she didn't see Barrett go for the throat, but once the shape of the cow fell she was relieved. Her shoulder throbbed. The dying breath of the cervidae creature was met with a sigh from the Italian woman. She didn't look at the rest of them — embarrassment swelled up at the thought that she'd appeared the weaker of the group, something that her pride wouldn't allow her to live down. She was a hunter, that was what made her her, and yet she'd been the one distracted enough to get kicked. A heavy sigh was released into the air as the younger Barrett called for the rest of the Dreamers to join them.

She sat a distance from the kill, staring upward toward the sky as she allowed the menfolk to take their fill. Her ear twisted down to flatten over her head as she focused solely on the pain that had started to simmer down — she wouldn't need a medic, she hoped, as she had when the barn collapsed on top of her. Regardless, she felt it best to simply rest instead of worrying about eating. Her body slid down onto the ground, turquoise eyes closing as her tail swatted the air before resting at her side. She'd eat when she felt better. Her children could have her portion instead.

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