The Great Hunt
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The freezing wind blows past the pale skined elf as she crouches low in the icey snow. Keeping herself down wind from her prey a large worg feeding on a fresh kill. The sound of the huge wolf ripping and crunching bone and flesh is almost sickening. Still she slowly stalks closer, the smell of of wet dog and blood passes her. The large worg raises its head ears twitching sniffing the air, has she been found out. Once satisfied the great beast goes back to feeding, her heart pounding with close call. She watches the wrog feed for a while watching how it tears the meat from the bone. Licking her lips and crouches even lower ready to strike at the next moment. As the worg leans down and pulls at some flesh she springs from her hiding place and the battle for life begins. She starts with a sweeping kick taking the back legs of the beast bring it to the ground and then pummling it with punches in vital joints. Each strike she makes is heard with a thundering crack as her gloves hum with each movement. But the beast is not easy pushed aside it stands onto its feet and swiftly strikes the girl with its large claws. her wound bleeds the crimson blood runs down her leg onto the snow but there is no time for worry the beast advances to finish her. Thinking fast she trys to trip the beast once more but fails it sees the attack coming and steps back. Her wounded leg causes her to lose balance and she falls to the ground under the beast. As she looks up to see death coming down to her as a gaping jaw full of sharp fangs. Instinctivly she rolls to the side leaving the jaws to find nothing but snow and ice giving her time to regain herself. Time runs short her wounds will be the death of her soon if she does not finish this. The worg shakes its great head then turns its atention back to the intruding elf and charges once more. She waits watching the beast charge her, she waits untill she can feel the hot breath of her prey blowing her in the face. Crouching done once more and with all the might she can muster leaping into the air and landing onto its back. The worg flicks around trying to bite her and throw her off its back but she holds on. This is the last chance it can be waisted, she spins on its back. With great might and swiftness she pummles her fists into its temples again and again untill this sound of bone shatering is heard. The prey falls to the ground silent entering the endless sleep never to wake again. She claims her prize taking its legs and pelt heading back to were her master is waiting.