The Heartwood Don't screw this up!

Quiet's going hunting! Care to join her?

Quiet wasn't fond of chasing. While lithe and streamlined, she wasn't one to go into bursts of speed or follow at a quick pace for miles. She was a stalker by nature — the long wait for prey before a quick burst of speed. It was with relish that she trailed the muskrat to its den, following its trail silently past the river banks. She stayed further inland, not stalking it directly, but keeping her mismatched eyes firmly on it as it waddled to its push-up den. As it came closer and closer to the little den, Quiet moved closer to the river, and to the muskrat. She paused, waiting for the right moment, praying to whatever dark gods the Dark Brotherhood worshipped, asking them to let her catch this one this time. She was hungry damnit.