she peeled off to the left, flank dipping low, shoulder brushing against the bark of a bent pine as she circled wide. she angled her steps to keep downwind, mane sweeping wild around her face as she moved through pockets between trees.
the fawn twitched, ears flicking. the doe raised her head. not alarmed, not yet, but it should be. gjalla paused, muscles coiling in preparation as she turned her head away to the northman. seeking not a command, but guidence. were they moving together, or would he hold? she would flush if he waited. break the edge and drive the fawn toward his jaws like prey into the snare.
her tail gave a single twitch. the choice was his.