Danica frowns as she follows the blood trail from the side of the road. Some might be surprised to see the Sergeant herself out on such a task, but she has always said that there's nothing that should be asked of a subordinate that the leader is unwilling - or unable- to do themselves.
Hit and run, probably by a truck. Smaller cars are damaged, sometimes even totaled by hitting deer. This one was called in by a kind-hearted passerby.
It's not far off the road that she finds the creature. One leg is twisted at a bad angle, and based on the way that the stag lies and pants, internal injuries as well.
She draws her firearm, and aims. A clean shot will take the beast out of it's agony.
The stag makes eye contact, and then lowers it's head to the ground. It looks almost as though it is bowing, accepting his fate.
Danica hesitates, then steps forward instead. The gun holstered, she reaches out and touches her hand into a splatter of the deer's blood, stark red on the snow, and then presses lightly onto the stag's head, right between the antlers, leaving a bloody handprint. Her eyes close as she concentrates.
Glamour flares as the Heatherbalm takes hold, and then Danica's world spins!
A few moments later, she sits up. It's a good thing she wears a Kevlar vest - not only protective against bullets, but apparently against antlered headbutts as well.
Standing, she looks at the trail - here snow is scattered about, there are the blood spatters, and there are the hoofprints heading off in clean white snow - close together at first, then further apart as the stag ran in leaping bounds.
Danica rubs at her chest ruefully, and yet, impressed. It's not every creature that can knock over a troll.
"Ungrateful thing. Serves me right, bleeding heart..." the Thane/cop grumbles.
"Go on then, buck. If you cross paths with my folk again, you may be venison." She calls after him, and then is off, back on duty, though with a bit of a lighter step.
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