Grouse Thicket started from the bottom

Partridge. 

Well, technically, they were grouse, but Niamh didn't know that. The thicket smelled like birds, and the kind of birds that would peck along on the ground- much better than those stuffy old birds who thought they were too good for that and continuously lived out of reach in the trees. Not that birds were Niamh's favourite, but they could do in a pinch, and the tall girl was almost always hungry. Being alone meant that she generally had to search for smaller prey, which meant that she was also almost always on the prowl for food. It'd be nice, she thought, to eventually be able to get out of this period of life which meant she was almost always hungry- but it didn't look like that day was coming anytime soon. 

It was hard to see very far in the thicket, and she felt herself constantly ducking her head as she moved along, trying to avoid getting brambles in her eyes. She'd already picked up a few burrdocks that clung to her coat like unwelcome tagalongs, but she'd see to those later, once she was out of this thicket. She sneezed softly, when a branch tickled her nose, and it was only on the inhale that she caught the male's scent; he was somewhere nearby, definitely in the thicket, but she couldn't see him even if she craned her neck to see over the bushes. 

She flinched in surprise when he howled, and her ears turned back. He was closer than she thought; but he had an intriguing rasp to his voice. He was calling for someone, and she knew it wasn't her- but she was still interested. She had a feeling he was looking for something, and she was looking for nothing. Coyly, she answered; partially wanting just to let him know she was in the area, and partially wanting to be invited into whatever it was he was doing.