we don't need to fight fair

The woods around Jiro began to settle. His predatory scent dissipated with the gentle breezes that shifted through the trees. He stays perched in the shrubs and shadows, allowing his body to relax and succumb to the patience that was hunting. Once the world around him believed him to be gone, the prey animals felt more comfortable to show themselves. An occasional chipmunk would chitter in his direction, but as long as he stilled, eyes unblinking, breath held, the small rodent would move on to the next tree limb. Minutes that felt like hours would pass until he heard the flutter of arriving wings.

Ducks with shiny green feathers lighted upon the water's surface, a certain sort of elegance that Jiro would never be capable of. He watches them float as his belly rumbles, mouth watering at the thought of duck for lunch. His attention draws then to the arrival of pigeons, each one swathed in grey and shimmering purple or green, seemingly all the same, but different in their own way. Beady black eyes staring into nothingness as they pecked at the dirt and grass, searching for their own meal. Would it be easier to snatch a duck or a pigeon? He isn't sure.

But perhaps his company would know. Doing his best not to startle at the delicate tones of the older wolf, Jiro turns to look up at her, a smile promptly revealing over his muzzle. "I was just thinking the same thing," Jiro states, his stilted common tongue showing how he's not accustomed to always speaking it. Damn his father for being insistent they speak their home's language. "I'm Jiro. Do you have a plan or?" His head cants, wide pale eyes blinking up at her as his tail thumps softly a few times against the ground.