The Joys Spring Can Bring
07-18-2014, 11:41 PM
Another day of exploration for the russet woman, this time leading her into the rustling thicket. The tall grasses and large bushes had called out to the fae, something about their demeanor as the tall grasses swayed in the wind brought her a sense of peace. She would hear birds fluttering about as soon as she had entered the thicket, ears perking up every few seconds as the fluttering of wings caught her attention. Misha would bend down in a crouch, sulking along the ground as she followed the scent of a bird, focusing her senses on that one. It was a small phesant, Misha could sniff the scent of pain on it- an injury. She would trail behind the small bird and it would come into view, the phesant holding it's weakened and injured wing against it's chest. Now, how in the world was Misha supposed to catch it? The Rustling Thicket was certainly no place for a pounce, especially forunexperienced hunter like Misha. So, she would continue stalking behind the small injured bird, snapping and jumping on top of it, grasping it's neck in her jaws as she did so, snapping the small neck easily in her jaws. |