[ She has little interest in the creature he carries. At least, not in this moment. It might be something to eat later, perhaps. When she's hungry — would it be edible? But generally there's not much of her attention spared to other creatures unless they're trying to fight her. No, she's far more interested in trying to get to the boy, who stops short as if to wait for her before legging it through the woods.
It doesn't take much to close the distance; what she might lack in size compared to other beasts, she makes up in swiftness. Darts through the trees with shuddering, clouding breaths into the air as she chases after the boy.
Once she's close enough, her head bows — sharp antlers lowering. With a final leap, she thrusts her head out and makes contact with fabric then flesh, piercing through soft skin and muscle with little effort before she lifts up, taking the boy off the ground as she skids to a stop.
With a roar, she holds the caught boy almost triumphantly. The air smells of flowers, overwhelmingly so — blood dripping down from her antlers. It takes a moment to realise something is wrong; something in her senses repulsed, angered. The boy is wrong, his blood is wrong. Something foul and rotten.
She shakes herself roughly, dislodging him from her antlers and discarding him — tossing him to the forest floor. There's another roar, teeth snapping together as she starts to draw near again — wary of his blood; kill the boy, kill the unnatural. ]
cw injuring via goring
It doesn't take much to close the distance; what she might lack in size compared to other beasts, she makes up in swiftness. Darts through the trees with shuddering, clouding breaths into the air as she chases after the boy.
Once she's close enough, her head bows — sharp antlers lowering. With a final leap, she thrusts her head out and makes contact with fabric then flesh, piercing through soft skin and muscle with little effort before she lifts up, taking the boy off the ground as she skids to a stop.
With a roar, she holds the caught boy almost triumphantly. The air smells of flowers, overwhelmingly so — blood dripping down from her antlers. It takes a moment to realise something is wrong; something in her senses repulsed, angered. The boy is wrong, his blood is wrong. Something foul and rotten.
She shakes herself roughly, dislodging him from her antlers and discarding him — tossing him to the forest floor. There's another roar, teeth snapping together as she starts to draw near again — wary of his blood; kill the boy, kill the unnatural. ]