ooc:
It was certainly a ways away from the familiar grounds of the Wentworth, but the journey was well worth the short time away. With the inhabitants of the Wentworth still perusing the grounds and making camp, the fodder had grown sparse in fear of the predators that lurked. When small game such a rabbit and the occasional marten still lingered, they were not as filling to a hungry belly as the succulent meat of a young deer or handsome bull. It could have filled the small community for days rather than hours and their hides would have made wonderful collections as bedding for the wolves to rest on. But to accomplish this, first the kill needed to be made.
So her path lead the golden she-wolf from the encompassing grounds to the vast fragrant woods to the south trailing after her wounded prey. The dangers of a party of one were lost to her as her efforts to down the wounded bulk help precedence. She had travelled from the early morning without rest, stalking the prey wounded by her accurate fangs. His belly remained a gaping wound, spurting blood each time the beast attempted a quicker stride. He was dying... and the damned beast knew it, but he was a defiant male. And though his harem had abandoned him to the rule of another young elk, he remained resilient against the threat lurking not far away... waiting for his energy to dwindle and his last bit of life to fade away.
Without a pack to help down him, the wolf could only watch and wait for her prey to die, in effect attracting any that cared to smell to attempt and take the beast all their own. But while she waited for his life to drain, she was careful to observe her surroundings as well. Ever vigilant as the eyes in the sky that watched the wolf stalk the bull with gleaming pairs of red-orange and yellow eyes. At times the owl pair would sweep down to harass the animal by the call of the wolf, but never lingered too long to receive injury. They were meant to further stress the beast as though the threat of the female wasn't enough to drive him mad.
Quietly, with well muscled form parallel to the ground, she crept and waited. Eyes wide and anticipating, waiting for the labored breaths to convey he was ready to die.