The uninjured deer, infuriated after seeing its injured companion suffer while it had only been able to watch, didn't waste time staring down Ackster. It charged, its head lowered, ready to skewer Ackster with the two antlers on its forehead.
Ackster could see the deer's eyes still locked on him, despite its lowered head, and he realized that he couldn't dodge or run since the deer would follow him like a honing missile.
But, Ackster hadn't planned on dodging. His legs were too injured for him to rely on when running.
However, there was one thing Ackster could force his legs to do for him, despite his injuries.
His experience with the other deer had shown Ackster the way to deal with foes with only legs and who relied on all of those legs to move, stand, and attack.
Without intact legs, the deers were useless.
And, naturally, when the deer charged toward him, there were only two legs Ackster could go for.
So, when the deer was close enough, Ackster crouched before throwing himself forward in a dive again. This time, he didn't sacrifice his rear. Just like he had learned from his success, he had also learned from his mistakes.
And Ackster was pretty sure that the Sharp-horned deer driving its sharp antlers into his legs or back would be a lot less pleasant than the other deer smacking him a couple of times.
Ackster grabbed one of the deer's legs before it could react. It was quick enough to start lifting the legs and rear on its hind legs, despite being in the middle of a charge. But its forward momentum made it almost impossible, even if it drove its hind legs into the ground in an attempt to break.
Ackster flew forward, twisted by the clashing momentum of the rest of his body and the deer's leg, with his arms warped around it. But he had succeeded in forcing the deer to the ground before he proceeded to hastily snap the leg over his knee as soon as he found balance on the ground.
The deer's leg, twisted out of position and broken, dropped to the ground as Ackster let go of it and put the deer in a headlock instead.
He had a hard time getting a good grip around the deer's neck since he had to beware of its thrashing, which threatened to make Ackster two eyes poorer.
But despite the deer's struggles, Ackster's hands found each other, and they held on tight as he used his arms to squeeze the deer's neck.
The deer's struggles intensified as it sensed what Ackster was up to, but with a broken, flailing leg, and a deep panic setting in, it couldn't get up.
However, Ackster realized that he was fighting a losing battle.
He was taking too many hits from the deer's legs and head. He was also rapidly losing strength. But he didn't know what else to do. If he let go, the deer's thrashing would prevent him from getting close.
He could try and find a thick and heavy branch somewhere in the forest, but the deers' blood had already been spilled. Other predators, who might not be interested in Ackster due to his poison, could gather and take his prey away while he looked for something to use.
But, right as he was about to take that risk, Ackster realized the answer was right in front of him.
He gradually adjusted his grip around the deer's neck further up and moved his entire body closer. It brought him closer to the deer's pointy and hard head. And while it was dangerous, since he could be skewered at any point if he wasn't careful – it could happen even if he were careful – it was exactly what he wanted.
After finally getting far enough, Ackster raised his legs, narrowly avoiding guaranteeing a fate without heirs, and somehow snaked them all the way around the base of the deer's neck.
It would be nearly impossible to choke the deer at that part of its neck since it was so sturdy and muscular. But that wasn't his goal. He just wanted leverage for when he finally managed to grab onto the handles on top of the deer's head.
Thankfully, the deer's heavy breathing and limited range of movement due to Ackster's double chokehold made it easy for him to control and guess where it would try and attack him.
So, when he saw the opportunity, he let go with his arms and met the deer's head with an elbow to its jaw. It wasn't enough to knock it out, not even close. But it did stun it a little. It was the split-second he needed to put both hands around the deer's antlers and pull.
He grabbed the antlers with both hands from the direction the deer would have the hardest to twist its head in. It was literally an underhanded move since he grabbed the deer's antlers from below while it lay on its side.
Ackster grunted in exertion as he used the last of his energy to pull on the antlers.
He felt through his legs how the deer's neck and muscles tautened and tensed, both because of the head that had already bent too far and the deer's efforts to stop Ackster from continuing to twist its head.
However, Ackster was at an advantage. He had his entire body moving in a singular direction to twist the deer's head beyond its breaking point.
But the deer only had its neck to fight against Ackster's strength. It was now the deer fighting a losing fight.
Neither was willing to give up, especially not Ackster, who wouldn't be done, even after he finished the deer in his hands. The other deer was injured. It had a broken leg. But it wasn't just fish on the chopping block. He would have to exert some effort to kill that one as well.
But eventually, the deer reached its breaking point. It just wasn't the breaking point Ackster had hoped for.
The cracking sound wasn't from the deer's neck. It was from one of its antlers.