The herd was, at least, a very small one: a mere three animals, but all were older males. They were a bachelor herd, two in their prime. One was distinctly elder and almost decrepit, this one without a gemstone, which might have explained his poor aging. Though Timir would likely not know this, they lived along the outskirts of Pegasus, watching the prime bulls with their herds, ready to step in and usurp a weak, injured, or dead male.
Not that the gem-reproducing ones were always male and female, of course, but this was the instinct that had been built into them.
Thus far the trio seemed unaware of Timir's approach; they browsed the long grass slowly, their soft brown eyes and languid demeanor hiding the explosive power they were capable of. The elder one ranged a little closer, an obvious target... had the Valkhound had any experience at all.
@Larkspur
At the very least, the Meadow Deer didn't seem aware of the magic that Timir had tried on them. Maybe it would be embarrassing to know that it'd failed so badly that they just... disregarded it.
They paced away down the hill a little ways, grazing amiably, still unaware of Timir's presence, and seemingly unaware of (or not assuming any danger from) Larkspur.
@Larkspur
The other bulls were busy staring at flowers when the attack came, and were slow to turn, swivelling and snorting in bewilderment at the sudden attack.
The elderly bull, though, reacted at once, bellowing with alarm and launching into a powerful series of bucks and kicks intended to free itself from this new predator.
What had been peaceful grazing turned into dirt and sod clumps kicked every which way, a cloud of rising dust, and the furious snorts and roars of the Meadow Deer who were under attack.
@Larkspur