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A brisk autumn breeze threaded through the swamp allowing bright specks of sunlight to filter down through the trees over head. The shifting rays did not seem to disturb the pale doe with a natural cloak of shadowy black upon her back. In fact she paid no attention to the light that vied for attention. Instead she stood quite still, her front leg pulled up as narrowed eyes watched and waited.

There were better ways of doing this although it took some work since she was not a mongoose or foxbun or well anything with more flexible appendages. Hooves were good for many things but making traps was not one of them. Not that she had time to make a trap -- not when she was wandering through and hoping to eat something soon. Where was that infernal mutt anyway? It didn't take that long to find something to eat. A high-pitched yip sounded and the doe's mouth curved into a smile. Finally.

Still it seemed far too long until her hound came bursting through a wall of bushes in pursuit of a raccoon. If she'd had a moment she would have wondered where or how the dog found it as they usually preferred the night to day but she didn't have a moment. She barely had time to snap from her frozen posture and lash out, hoof coming down hard on the mammal's skull. The harsh crack of bone breaking made her laugh.

The prey was still and she looked it over carefully. It wouldn't have been her first choice of meal but one couldn't be always be picky. She hoped no one came along. She was far from in the mood to share.

Are you going to eat that?

The doe's head came up and her eyes narrowed. At first glance it seemed to be a kimeti female made of blood. The fresh liquid had dripped down from the crown of her head to reveal a shock of orange. Familiar. Still it took her a moment to place it. "Oh you," she smiled. If the appearance of the doe hadn't told her anything then the associate with the buck called Gloom might. Perhaps she wouldn't have to put up so much of a front.

"To answer you question, yes I plan to eat it. I'd say it looks like you have plenty of meal options..." she replied with a smile.

The hound tensed and growled, deep and low, at the doe. The feathers ruffled and rose to present her as a bigger threat. Even the ears seemed to twitch, waiting for some command from her mistress.

Rather than tell the female dog to do anything, she snorted. There weren't many circumstances she'd considered eating her hound, perhaps another if there came a time. Those more delicate looking dogs of her cousins would have less meat but might be easier to eat. Not that she planned on there being a time to test either idea.

"Those smaller mutts of the desert dwellers seem a better idea for a meal," she pitched to the other doe anyway. With all that blood this doe would possibly like the idea or even know already.

The movement was quick and exact -- appearance alone had told her this doe was more than likely a fierce hunter -- and the poor hound was pinned in a manner that made an attack hard. In fact besides a rather loud and enraged snarl and the snap of teeth, there was nothing to be done. Not for it.

A large part of the doe was annoyed. This blood drenched doe, while sharing her trait of self-interest, was unhinged. ********. In that case why bother with any pretense at all?

With narrowed eyes and tension snapping through her muscles, she lunged forward. Her head bowed and she put all the strength she had behind the momentum building up. The harsh collision of her head against the other doe's chest might have made stars burst in front of her eyes if adrenaline and annoyance and a spark of rage mingled with fun weren't coursing through her veins. Still she staggered, felt the warmth of the blood coat worn by the other doe blossom on her crown as it slid down upon her cheek -- well damn if that wasn't kind of nice.

She almost wanted to rub against the still warm liquid on the doe -- maybe after she made sure her hound wasn't a meal. She'd put far too much work into training it to let some blood-crazed doe kill it. Only she was allowed to kill her damn mutt.

At first she thought the other doe was going to retaliate; it made sense after all. She nosed a bit at her hound until it rolled to its paws and crouched, ready to lunge. However it seemed the carrot-haired doe was more interested in stretching -- or shaking off blood coat. The splatter hit her and her hound, thick drops oozing down on feather and fur. It was a different experience than she'd had before but she couldn't say it wasn't nice.

She gave a subtle shake of her head directed to the dog, who stood up, before she herself relaxed a little. She even began to hum along to the strange tune -- "My hound is not a meal..." she interrupted, mind remembering the dead raccoon, "but we can eat a raccoon or kill something else, if you're that hungry or bored." Normally she didn't like to share or show off her skills but the dog was helpful and it really didn't deserve to be eaten by this doe (or any kin).

Snack? This doe must be a voracious eater then. A wonder it didn't show on her body. Then again with the abrupt change of thought, perhaps she never finished any of her large snacks. Not that it mattered.

Lull watched the unhinged doe; she seemed to do nothing to hide her insanity. It seemed a mistake but perhaps all she met were too put off to care. Oh well.

With a careful step she followed, "Whatever have you been playing in?" The two must look a pair now, one who looked to have bathed in blood and one who was clearly showered in it. She wondered if they could scare anyone, that might be fun.

The red cheetah seemed fitting, perfect, for such a doe. And she was glad her eaglehound had spent so much time around her son's own cheetah to find it not something to antagonize. It might turn into an all out brawl otherwise.

"Bigger game would be divine," she smiled. It would be fun and it might even dare feed all four of them. What other answer was there?

The freedom Doom displayed was rather mind boggling. No apparent planning or thought; it seemed quite foolish. Oh well.

The doe nudged her hound through first before making it through herself. It was always best to send something on ahead into the unknown. Although at this point she didn't think the doe or cat would want to turn on them, not until they'd killed something. Then it might be an entirely different story.