W.C.: +600
As usual, adrenaline flowed through her veins immediately. It was a normal reaction to a situation, but only since that terrible day, when she got the scar... and discovered her other self. She knew it was that horrible beast inside her, excited to see the bloodshed. The femme felt disgusted with herself with those feelings, but it really wasn't her fault. It was her father's. It was him that gave her that.
She had brought Bluma and Seymour. Unfortuantely, her limbless worm couldn't be inside their den-cave. Bluma was standing besides her, the legs' muscles trembling a bit, more than ready to run. the horse's free spirit in her haven't faded when she was tamed. It was good, at least for her rider. Seymour shoke and tilted his head all the time, excited as well. After living a lifetime with the grayish female, he knew what to expect, and knew it was exciting. The falcon was sitting in her glove-covered hand, shaking his tail and wings of expectation, holding himself to fly when she gave him the sign. Saw was in the ground, coiled in a circle, not so energetic as her other companions. Catherine's bow was in her back, as the other hand held the bridle's line that was set in the mare's head.
The stripped wolfess was in her two-legged form, the one she felt perfectly fine, although she had only shifted near her second birthday. The woman mounted the cream equine, which whinned a bit with the sudden weight. Now, bother bird and horse knew it had come the time, and couldn't stay still. Time to do our stuff, fellas!, she said to the pets, and waved the arm, the signal for the bird. It flew away and straight to where Dawali said the prey should be. The peregrine's job was to scan for the better prey. It had to be of an average size, but still weak in any way possible. Either hurt, old, young, or anything like that.
Now, it was Bluma's job, and the mare knew it. Before the horse could explode in a crazy race, she glanced to the weapons, and found other arrows. She examinated them for a while with her -only- trainned eye. They looked good. At least, better than hers. The mare stood in the hind legs, forcing Catherine to hold herself in the horse's bridle line. It then, ran to where the bird flew, passing near the weapons. The wolfess lifted her body sideways, and stretched an arm to get a handful of the arrows. She placed them in the case in her back.
The horse slowed down to a slow trotte, which meant that they were rather close to where they should be. The horse stood behind a tree. The femme climbed the tree swiftly, more like a cat than to a wolf. She found the perfect branch, and she just in it, preparing the bow to attack. Seymour flew from a tree next hers, and dived right in the head of the chosen prey, which was half hidden beind some trees. It did looked weak, but was rather big. Perfect spot with the perfect prey.
She waited for Dawali's sign, which wouldn't be easily saw by her, with that thick layer of leaves, hidden from the prey's glares, but with an empty "window" for her aim. That was another job for Seymour, which shouldn't be far away, but now was hidden as well. He would cry when he saw the red flag in the air, annoucing it was time. She could -hardly, but still could- see the chosen one, a young doe, with a skinny look. The poor deer was so concentrated in the food that wasn't aware of the imminent danger.