I looked left and right, seeing Illne and Crolt. Slowly, deliberately, I shook some of the greenery in front of me while gathering my magic in my throat and watching for any reaction from the group of Scaled Deer in front of me. Nothing.

I signaled to Illne, who similarly disturbed the greenery, but slightly less subtly. There was a brief flicking of an ear from one of the deer in the herd, then a soft snort and a couple of heads turned in our direction. Perfect.

Without needing to be prompted, the three of us began stalking forward, deliberately making small amounts of noise. One by one, then suddenly, all at once, the herd was watching in our direction.

I unshackled the bestial cry within me and added a hint of [Innervating Address] as I let my magic loose. The deer bolted away from us as Illne, Crolt and I rushed forward. I was immediately glad that I’d decided to bring Illne with me when I realized that there were, in fact, three herd leaders, not two.

“One each! I’ll come support you when I’m done!” I said, pointing at each target. My companions nodded and found the space to engage the foes.

I’d hunted Scaled Deer as a human and keelish, and I’d never felt that it was particularly difficult. They had a weak spot behind their shoulders that wasn’t too hard to shoot with a bow, as well as the soft underside of their jaws that offered no protection against my claws. I entered this fight with that same supposition. I was wrong.

As I charged forward, [Combatant’s Bloodlust] active, the huge bull loomed in my vision–it was as tall as I was… at the shoulder. I came close to try to impale its skull on my spear, but it reared back on its rear hooves and lashed out wildly with its front ones, forcing me to retreat to not be struck. I struck forwards with my spear, hoping to strike true, but the second its front hooves touched down, the bull used them to rush forward. I was nearly gored in that moment, but thanks to the training with Wisterl, I sidestepped quickly while dropping the spear and extending my claws while catching hold of the tip of the antlers in my left hand. I leveraged my entire weight and hammered the pointed antlers into the ground.

Seizing the opportunity, I lashed out with my right hand, slashing at the exposed weak point of the deer’s side. My new claws were built to tear flesh, and that’s what I expected to feel, the nearly effortless separation of scale, skin, and flesh. Instead, my claws caught in thick scar tissue, only able to penetrate half their 4cm length. The deer grunted in pain and wrenched his head from the ground and throwing himself bodily at me once again. I dropped to my back on the ground below his strike before arching my back and pushing off the ground with my tail to get my mouth at the deer’s throat. My fangs sunk in and I could feel the deer’s breath rushing through its neck in pained, panicked gasps. It still didn’t give in.

In an admirable feat of strength, the deer again hoisted itself from the ground and began striking at my chest with its hooves. I dropped off, but not fast enough to avoid a glancing blow to my ribs and I felt more than I heard the crack of bone. With a hiss of rage I threw myself forward while sidestepping the thrashing hooves. Once I was in position, I bit down and seized hold of my prey’s front leg before twisting it savagely. I was rewarded with the snapping of bone and a bleat of pain. Without hesitating a moment, I leapt just high enough over the hobbled deer to seize the other front leg in my mouth. Using the beast’s body as a lever, I snapped the opposite leg from the joint in the same bone cracking motion.

Ignoring the pained cries of the cries of the crippled deer beneath me, I looked to the sides to take stock of the situation. Crolt had circled around his prey and was fighting it more defensively, just ensuring that it couldn’t flee to its brethren. Illne, however, was struggling. She obviously wasn’t accustomed to fighting without the support of a pack, and was bleeding steadily from a long gash in her upper thigh. I grabbed my spear and immediately went to assist her.

With quick, quiet steps, I rushed towards the deer’s flank, intending to cripple a leg before we incapacitated it completely just like I had. As I got closer, I was about to do so when instinct screamed at me to abort the attack. I trusted it and arrested my forward momentum when the back legs of the deer came kicking at my head. Internally I thanked Wisterl’s beatings and rushed back in from the side.

The deer wasn’t ready to deal with two khatif, especially not one with a weapon, and I quickly found an opening to bury my spear up to the haft in its ribcage. I twisted then ripped it out and saw the ripped flesh and shattered scales spray out as the deer collapsed, groaning weakly in the agony of death.

I turned once again to assist Crolt, but he’d made progress in the brief moment since I’d last looked. He still had his strange feet, and was using them to hold the prey’s front legs back while he ripped its throat out. I nodded approvingly before returning to my prey.

It continued whimpering and thrashing in agony, so I approached from behind, gripped the base of its skull firmly in my jaws, and, wrenching it to the side with a wet cracking of bone, murmured “Your strength to mine.”. The body went limp and I dropped it as the weight sent my cracked ribs into a wave of agony.

Without speaking, I gestured for the others to follow me forward. They did so with quick nods as we followed the sounds of a keelish hunt.