HUNTER, HUNTED, OR CONFUSED CLOWN-DOG?

Timir hesitated.

The deer looked... big. Like, BIG-big. Bigger than him-big. And there were many of them, too. But they were just deer, right?

How hard could it be?

He was a polite sort, so far, and he didn't want to put Larkspur out, so he shook his head. He didn't want to be a problem, or picky, when they were being so helpful so instead, he'd pit himself against all these giant, spiky deer things. That seemed to be fair. "I will try to shake one," he answered. He hesitated, and then added, "Thank you."

From here, he wasn't sure how useful his new little friend would be. So he dropped down into the stalking posture he'd learned for hunting, albeit clumsy with his youth, and began his approach through the long grass.

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.

Now that Larkspur saw the size comparison between Big Vee and the big sharp prey animals, they wondered how much he'd really be able to shake them. ... Eh, he looked pretty strong! Also he said he could eat big animals so it must be possible, right? Though it still seemed a bit weird to eat things you couldn't fit whole in your mouth, they'd had experience witnessing others take bites out of things (i.e. just Worm and his not dog). They had complete confidence in their new friend.

They had the sense not to call out encouragement, seeing as he was apparently trying to be sneaky, but they followed along in the air at a distance, curious how the rest of this hunt would look like.

Timir got closer, and then hesitated, because, um.

What now?

He had to get close to "shake" one. And he was already wondering if this hunt was gonna go the way of his very first, where he and Tsvetok had done their best to kill some large rocks. (He still was on the fence about whether those were sapient, food, etc.)

Timir crouched in the grass, watching, and to an onlooker like Larkspur it might've looked like a wise hunter awaiting the perfect moment. But actually, Timir was just kind of lost. He didn't know what to do now. What he was looking for.

It probably looked even more confusing when he just stayed there as the small herd began to shuffle away. He'd been trying to cast his air magic on them, to suck the breath from the old one's lungs. Instead, it had snorted and shaken it off.

...Now what?

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.

Big Vee stayed still for a very very long time, until Larkspur wondered what he was planning. Was he waiting for the perfect opportunity? They didn't know what that might look like, but it seemed to them that right now was a pretty good one. None of the big sharp prey were looking his way.

But maybe they could help their new friend somehow! Larkspur tilted their wings and changed direction to head for the trio of big sharp prey. In a one-time casual fly-by of a very small, very innocent, very harmless and easily ignored juvenile bird, a stream of magic very casually trickled into the plants near where the closest big sharp prey to Big Vee was grazing. Colorful, pretty wildflowers slowly grew and opened up not far from its feet, right in the opposite direction from where the big sharp predator was lying in wait. Look away, big sharp prey!

Timir gave up on the whole "do the smart thing" plan about five seconds after seeing flowers that bloomed wildly in Larkspur's path, and noticing that the beasts were glancing up toward them. Which meant they were looking away from him.

He leapt out of cover, racing for the elder bull, hoping to latch onto its neck and thrash. "Shake it really hard" was all he had to go by. He lunged for it, clamping teeth for the side of its neck, not experienced enough to truly go for the throat.

Timir was big, but so were they. He was honestly terrified of what would happen if he missed, or failed: they seemed to have a lot of pointy bits, both on the feet and on their heads. So he put his all into it, shaking for everything he was worth.

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.

The violence, when it happened, was sudden. Larkspur gasped softly and leaned swooped in a wide arc back over the fray, watching from above. For someone who was big and burly and couldn't fly, Vee moved fast. It was hard to get a solid idea of what was happening amid the tangle of limbs and kicked-up clods of dirt, but Larkspur thought that Vee might be winning.

At least, the dust implied that he was shaking really hard, as the swallow had suggested. It was his opportunity now to grab his prey and get out before the other two caught up!

—Larkspur seemed to not quite have grasped that the Meadow Deer were much too large for Timir to drag away in his mouth like a mere bug.

Timir clung for dear life. In his mind, as long as he kept shaking and tearing, the bull would... probably, eventually, hopefully... die. But he could feel himself being scraped, kicked, bruised and battered. A coughing yelp escaped him at one strong hit to the ribs. Still, he held on. He growled and tried to wrestle the bull down-

Oh shit.

He was off in a heartbeat, backing away as the herd raced for him. He flinched, calling on his magic, and a shimmering barrier of air rose before him. It wasn't... broad, wasn't really enough, but the first few strikes bounced off it.

He looked up, almost desperate, his glowing eyes searching for Larkspur. "HELP!?" he called, not knowing how the tiny bird could aid.