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Nice and easy, and he watched her drop to the ground. Ebony ears flattened and muzzle grimaced as he turned to the bird, flexing his claws with malicious intention. The bird had gotten him once, and if little Gamble was to give him another go, then the outcome was certain to be different, and not in the bird’s favour. Seconds passed without unpleasant surprises, and he snorted contently as he moved to grab his and the thief’s belongings. He would rummage through her possessions at a later time—perhaps her sneaky little fingers had stolen something useful.
Lastly, he walked over to the petite doe’s unconscious form and threw her over his shoulder as if her weight matched a feather’s. He was a giant thanks to good genes, and regularly handling heavy objects and weights in his chosen profession made him much stronger than the average wolf. And this one was young and thin; not a burden at all. Had the male had any rope or strips, he would have tied the girl up properly, but he didn’t. There was nothing a good punch couldn’t do, and so he began to walk home. And he that had feared that he would return home more or less empty handed.
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