ooc:
She was braced and ready for the forced of it, knowing full well the senseless nature of the prey animals and their narrow minded attempts at retaliation. He would stomp and scrape and try to retrieve his dead, but the female would be damned if she gave up her kill. More than her life depended on it. She could feel it within her, growing…starving. That life could not dwindling not for its own sake, but for the sake of what it represented. Always what it represented.
The female rounded her shoulders and lowered her head. Teeth and gums flashing in challenge for the buck to come forth and meet his demise. And it had as soon as it charged, but not by her own teeth. Her were concealed in alarm for the blur that shot across the ground, capturing the prey by the throat and silencing it in a display the she-wolf would have been damned to honor as valiant. The dog… no. Her mate had taken it, abruptly ending the challenge before it commenced but scarring the proud Nomad in a way only a selfless mongrel could.
As he came closer to her, leaving the buck to bleed out on the ground, she instinctively stepped back to covet her prey. But even that subtle bend was a reminder of the wound incurred and like a twig snapping under the slightest pressure, she buckled on top of her kill in pain. The adrenaline ebbed from her veins, reacquainted her naked nerves to pure, unbridled pain. Her eyes were wide as the flesh twisted and pulled at her movements until it became unbearable that she was forced still across the meat. By the Ancestors’ will… long since had she felt such pain… and for the first time in a long time, she was fearful of how deeply it would run within her. What was the damage that her eyes could not see? How deep would the scar of this segment run?
“I don’t know…” she gasped, squinting as both wound and racing heart ached. She could not rightly tell if she was answering his question or responding to her own, but the answer to both was the same regardless. “I do not know…but it hurts. It hurts…”