Grouse Thicket A Breath of Fresh Grouse

The wolf stalked through the thicket, his form brushing against the tightly-knit shrubbery that hugged the tall, scattered trees about him. The gray and white brute's dark sapphire eyes shimmering in the dense light that caught his wandering gaze, his stare cold and emotionless as he glanced upward toward the entangled mess of branches above. A low rumble sounded within his throat as he tore his stare away from the canopy to the opening up ahead, his eyes gleaming in the light as he stopped in his tracks, dark gray ears arched forward as he listened to the birds sing within the tree tops, nostrils flaring as he scented the breeze as it swept through the terrain. The gray and white male lowered his head slightly as he became aware of another presence within the thicket, tail swaying behind him calmly as he stalked onwards, following his nose.

When he found the source of the scent, Vandal wasn't sure what he was seeing. Dark eyes watching as a wolf tried to eat an apple. The wolf stared, almost dumbfounded for the moment as he watched the she-wolf hold the fruit with her front paws, biting at it. Was she really enjoying that?