[ She can't keep up, that much becomes rapidly obvious shortly after chasing the Moving Thing through the doors; her fractured leg gives and she crashes with a pained yelp, yowling in the mud. Shakily rising, she snaps angrily in the direction of the prey's scent. A slow, loping stride takes her back indoors, panting harshly through the rattling fluid gathering in her lungs. If she dies like this ...
There are other raptors, though. A Pack. Finding them will be her only shot if she can't hunt alone. ]
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There are other raptors, though. A Pack. Finding them will be her only shot if she can't hunt alone. ]