Droplet had found the goat immediately, and Cupid felt like a blind idiot for not noticing it sooner. He nodded at his daughter with a silent smile before working his way silently towards the majestic creature. It's' perfectly curved horns, with that fluffy – no, woolly? – pelt brought Cupid to a feeling of envy. Perhaps once he took down the meal, he could take some of its wool and offer it to his packmates as a material to line their nests with. He smiled.
“Quiet, now,” He warned.
“One wrong move, or one word whispered too loudly, can easily determine the fate of a hunt. Stay a few ways back, okay? Goats can be dangerous, and I doubt I'll be able to take it down on my own... unless...” As he spoke, he'd noticed a large, gaping wound within the fur, from which it was obvious that there was probably a small group of loners – perhaps two or three – trying to take down this same goat, before probably being warded of the territory. Hm... He'd grow closer, taking a look at the wound; it took up part of the throat, spreading across to the right shoulder as he took a look.
Cupid's mouth gaped open.
“Goodness...” He sighed, though his rumbling stomach disagreed with him.
Would it be worth it to leap?
Unfortunately, Carl decided yes.
So, with his claws outstretched and his teeth gnashing and gnawing, Cupid would leap, teeth piercing the barely-healed-over wound and causing blood to immediately seep. Cupid let out a brief growl, looking back to his daughter and ensuring that she
stayed there. This game was probably too large for her. He didn't want her getting
hurt.
Really, anything but his baby getting hurt would do. Not Mythic, Mars
or Droplet, they'd only be allowed to get hurt by the time that wolves stopped existing, so, probably never. He just wanted his whelps to be safe, which is why he sought refuge in a pack that's probably one of the farthest from the desert as possible. Never would he let Satan find them. He doubted he'd be good with kids. Unless... he wanted to be a part of their lives. Cupid could try to make it work-- no, no, what was he thinking? Satan fucked him and then left him for dead, no real
care for him, huh?
Anyways. The hunt. Yes. He sunk his teeth in further, before flicking his tail and jumping off, making chase as the goat tried to run. Only now would he let Droplet get close, though he'd have to advise her not to get too close to their hooves; any ungulates hooves were purely the most dangerous weapons in the world, besides fangs, however. He looked back every now and then to ensure his whelp was still following.
Stay close, Droplet.