He had promised Katti that he'd find sweet little Maeva, that she couldn't have gone far, but low and behold her scent lead him toward the fringes and he feared the worst. There children branching out too far from home was a reasonable fear, wasn't it?

Along the mountain trails he stalked, skulking around every corner, with a keen nose that picked up every sent, but the slowly disappearing gray girl. His jaws clenched as he moved, tattered ears on a swivel, but even then it didn't prepare him for the jump scare as he rounded this next corner.

The thing about Saborans, especially older Saborans, was their ability to respond to fight or flight instances with an undying need to ATTACK, unfortunately for Kazmiere, he'd be met with a hulking force, teeth bared and red eye wide and poisonous. Zasha lurched forward, greasy furred body aiming to make contact before his mind could clearly register anything. These responses were what made the ex-Hawkeye one of Coven's favorite tools. Zasha simply just did, relying on feral instincts like some mindless beast.

However, fortunately for the other male, Zasha's hefty weight would merely pin him to the ground if the other didn't move quick enough. Teeth aiming to rip out the other's throat, until he realized, oh, they're not fighting back? Instead a low growl erupted from the large male's throat, drool pour down from his jowl as that red eye narrowed squarely on the other, clearly not at all amused by the other's little game. "Boo." He'd retort in a raspy, wheezed tone, lowering his face so that his nose was touching the other.

Somewhere in the world came the low, bellowing wail of an old stag as it fell.

Then silence.

And then, a sharp snap tore through the silence. Birds that had found themselves nestled in their trees took flight, cawing and hollering at the one who had made the noise and woke them from their slumber. It was a grisly snap that echoed through the land, but it was fleeting; a moment lost to time. From somewhere close, if one listened hard enough, they would be able to hear the guttural sounds of teeth sinking in to flesh, pulling, tearing, and ripping, pulling, tearing, and ripping until finally silence once more overtook the land.

Standing above the carcass of the elder stag, Ryker held the head of the fallen beast by an antler in his mouth, surveying the quick job he had made of his sacrifice. He had not slain the beast itself; he merely ran it to it's own point of exhaustion and allowed death to come for it swiftly. Gingerly he set the head down beside him, licking his lips as he began to dig in to the belly of his feast. He could feel Death with him now, even as he took his first few bites of the fresh kill, nourishing him for a job well done as his right hand man. Ryker paused for a moment, lifting his head to the crisp night sky and inhaling proudly. He had served his master well, and would be rewarded for it when the time came for him to meet his Master in the flesh. The boy bent down once more to his dinner when from the silence came the yowling voice of another. It echoed through the valleys and trees, through the mountainside that Ryker found himself upon with his dinner, and beyond. The voice was curious enough that it bore within him the desire to investigate; perhaps Death called upon him once more to ferry another soul from this world to the next.

Ryker picked up his trophy, carrying it in his mouth as the head and neck dragged between his legs; ears perked and eyes darting to every nook and hiding hole that lay near him. If there was someone up here, then there was a good chance there were more than one someones.

It didn't take him long either to find them. It was all thanks to another voice; deadpanned and serious that made the male quicken his pace. Whoever they were, they were not far from him, and as he turned a corner he spotted them. One male pinned to the ground by another. Ryker gave a soft snort, holding his prize tighter in his mouth and squinting at the pair. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of them, but never the less it was still a curious sight. Ryker paused a moment before setting the stag's head down between his feet.

"Evening," he growled lowly.