Grouse Thicket cry wolf [malice]

Not often she wandered, but when she did, she almost always went to the forest she knew best. It was not far from home, and yet it felt so different, and she could not get enough of the grouse that roamed here and the shade the trees provided. Even in winter, she suspected, she would come here often to get away and free her mind of troubles. Her coat wet and cold from the river, she wandered, not expecting to found a peculiar male hunting. 

He was feeding on one of the animals here, and Malice did not like this. These were Arthendal's hunting grounds, and every grouse stolen from them they could not feed upon in the coldest months. She cleared her throat loudly as she stepped toward him, tail raised and yellow eyes set ablaze not by fury, but by curiosity and disbelieve.