He was not a fast creature, and so it was with great relief the young boy spared a glance over his shoulder to take a look at his pursuers. The sounds of growls and snarls had escalated, but his brief glance revealed that there were no pursuers behind him. Panting with exertion, Serach lurched forward, doing his best to remain upright even on awkward paws. The smell of blood was in his muzzle, and it took all of his self control to not drop the stringy meat he carried onto the snow and devour it then and there. Should one of the opposing adults give chase, Serach had little hope of outrunning them. He was slow, and his paws slid over and sank into the snow in an uneasy rhythm. He was headed back the way he had come, over the field of paw prints that had led them to their encounter with the caribou. Their encounter with family.
The farther he ran, the heavier his breathing became. His heart pounded against his rib cage, and more than once Serach's eyes grew wide with worry at the thought that his heart might break through his chest. But his vital organ stayed in place, and despite his fear, nobody came after him. But he did not turn around again, but kept running until the adrenaline fuel ran out and his legs gave out in exhaustion. He was alone now, and with no second thoughts, ripped into his prize, eagerly awaiting to fill his empty stomach.
Serach exit.