When their leader nodded and dispatched himself to the shelf the Attaya male tilted his head toward Cheedo, giving her a friendly sweep of his tail and a crooked grin. "Wind at your feet," he quipped, a hunter's blessing that he had learned in the Straits. At a swift lope the two wolves moved west of the herd, using the heavy snowfall to their advantage as they curved around the group too far to be easily spotted but close enough to see the striped throats of their prey.
As they slowed down Rowan came around Cheedo's side, placing himself between the herd and the foothills. With his larger size he could intimidate the pronghorns from racing into the high ground, and with Cheedo's speed she could herd the group to remain on a parallel path. With one last silent look upon his partner Rowan tore out of the cover of snowfall, his long stride devouring the distance between him and the group. The pronghorns were quick to react, dispersing with a bleat of terror. One female of the group stumbled across a rock in her haste to get away from the two wolves, tumbling and careening into another pronghorn's body. She got up quick and continued away, the tantalizing scent of blood following her as she had sustained an injury in her flight.
The dark wolf remained steady between the prey and the mountains, growling and snapping as necessary to force the herd. They were coming up on Wraith's hidden ambush fast.