He had seen enough to know that this deer was not going to last much longer. It was going to perish, if not by their doing, then at some point in the future. However, survival instinct was a powerful thing possessed to some degree by all creatures. That kept them going even against seemingly impossible odds or through hopeless circumstances. Alarick had just come through a harsh winter of that on his own.
And as the ungulate’s ears swiveled and its head turned to track their approach, he knew this deer had not given up on that, either. It started forth again through the snow, breaking out into a hobbled run, clearly favoring a front limb. Al darted after it, briefly amazed at the speed it acquired despite its injured state, though it was not enough. He gained ground quickly and darted in to strike the deer’s back leg to slow it, before veering off to avoid any retaliation, and to gauge the approach his companion had taken so he could adjust accordingly if necessary.