Hushed Willows Benign

@Banner b/c i can never have enough of these cuties~ :D

It had been some time since Buchanan had brought Banner feathers for her collection and that alone drove him into the velveteen darkness of the early morning. The air was cold, it writhed from his nostrils in white tendrils of steam drawn by the moon's glow as it hung heavy and pale in the sky. It was clear, no clouds to obstruct the sky littered with thousands of stars. For a brief moment on his hunt, his silvern gaze lifted to the sky to admire it's beauty. Buchanan was no stargazer but he found that it was nice to be able to appreciate life in a way that he never had before. Before Banner and before Marauder's Keep. A shrill call nearby had snapped his attention away from the skyline, his ears cupping forth, alert as his eyes scanned the trees around him, his muscles tensing beneath his scarred flesh as he switched into a mode most familiar to him. It was instantaneous for him. To take back on the skin of the assassin Of course he hunted for philanthropic reasons now, and turned away from the killing of his own species. It would never leave him, though. Just as The Officer would never completely vanish from his thoughts, from his memory. His past would always haunt him no matter how wonderful and bright his future may have been.

He heard it again and this time the large owl fluttered to an outcropping of rock a few feet from him. Buchanan sunk low, taking in the white and cream colored owl's heart shaped face as white as the moon. It was a magnificent beast and Buchanan was sure that Banner could find some good feathers from it for her collection. He drew in a deep breath, focusing upon the owl as if he were configuring the scope of a sniper rifle, pinpointing choice locations on it's body for attack, judging his margins of error. There weren't many. If it took off in flight Buchanan's chances of success would be near impossible.

Slowly, Buchanan stalked forward and as the bird's head swiveled away from him the ex-assassin lunged for it. The owl was quick, flapping it's wings, it's talon's striking against Buchanan's cheek, cutting into his flesh. The sharp, white hot sting of pain barely phased him. He'd known a lot worse physical pain in his life. If anything, it only added to the thrill of the hunt. Buchanan's jaws snapped upon the bird's wing and it's cry broke the silence of the night as he wrestled the writhing bird down to the ground. Immobile, Buchanan made quick work of the bird, frowning at the damaged wing and mussed feathers when it laid limp at his paws. There was a whole other wing, it's back, tail and belly feathers to choose from but it definitely hadn't been his most graceful kill. The only thing that mattered was if there were feathers in good condition for Banner, as for the food portion of the owl it didn't much matter what condition it's feathers were in.