There are only two ways to live your life: as though nothing is a miracle, or as though everything is a miracle.
Their thoughts were similar but unspoken and for different reasons. Daesamar was more than happy to risk more because he was bigger, almost twice Ferreiran’s size. He was far more intimidating and he hoped the startled deer would see his size as a threat and run instead of trying to fight them both just to save a calf. He gave one last look toward the lake before taking a step from behind the bushes. “Alright, we run at the same time, go after the calf and leave the others to me. I’m sure when they get a good look at this face they’ll start hightailing it out of here.”
The yearling grinned at his own joke, his crooked right ear flicked and he took a deep breath. He could feel the soft tufts of grass under his paws. “On three.” He said before lowering himself close to the ground to give his hunting companion time to prepare himself. Quietly he called out the countdown. Once he hit three he bunched his muscles up and took off at a run.
The herd was midnight their own business as the light started to fall. The first sign of any danger came in the form of a soft rumbling growl from near the lake. It gradually rose in volume as the massive black and silver wolf appeared, the fur along his shoulder rose and his ivory fangs gleamed in the dying light of the setting sun. The deer started to panic, the mothers called to the calves with their short alarm calls. Many of the youths started to frantically splash and scramble toward the shore.