Neverwinter Forest Le Chat Noir

Y'all come meet the Shrike!!

Partridges. Though they probably weren't the top pick for most wolves, Shrike thoroughly enjoyed hunting them down. Of course, it was easier in the springtime, when the hen would do the 'wounded wing' act to lead a predator away from her chicks before taking off into the air at the last moment, and he'd learned by now to forgo hunting her altogether and merely look for the hidden chicks. By now, they were grown up and flying, but dumb still. Not that Shrike felt many birds were clever at all- ironic, of course, given the fact that he was named after a bird. But he'd only seen a Shrike a couple of times, and as devious as the medium-sized 'butcher birds' were, he figured at least he was named after a semi-clever one. 

He'd caught one in the morning and had stashed it away, and expelled air with a rough chuff as he hit the ground, bird still flapping in his mouth having caught a second just as the sun set. Not a bad haul, catching two partridges in one day. He silenced it, and took off at a trot, heading to the place where he'd buried the first, and would pick from them later if he got hungry. He was reminded, sadly, of the day he'd taught Eljay how to hunt partridges, but did his best to push that memory aside. He couldn't dwell, he told himself, as he trotted through the woodland toward his cache. He had to move on and move forward with his life.