Jade Fern Grove ɡäbəl

Three fat turkeys were roosting in a tree which overlooked the rolling hillscape. Swiftlet had seen them settle there at dusk. He had tried for hours to persuade the birds to come down by mimicking the noises they made, but although they occasionally encouraged him by answering his clucks and purrs with calls of their own, they never budged.

Convinced the birds were there for the night, the hungry young wolf settled himself some distance away to sleep, waking before the dawn to steal close to the roost once more. He concealed himself in a thicket confident that the birds had not noticed his return. Then after a short wait, he tried his luck again with cackles and yelps.