Neverwinter Forest a distant land caused me to linger

There was a rustle... and then nothing.

At least that was how it seemed at first. Dirge had paused, poised and ready to spring. But the grouse didn't come out, at least not on it's own. It shot into the sky suddenly and with such force that the shrub it hid in shook violently. At its heels, sprang a long weasel. His gaze almost stayed on the bird a second too long before he went to snap the mink, instead following the long-bodied weasel down into the mess of sharp sticks and probable thorns. It's cries overshadowed the scattering of two other grouse, no doubt scared half a neighborhood of other beasts, and it writhed wildly until Dirge gave it a fair shake.

The snap of its spine was enough to stop it cold, but it was far from dead. The death came from how he removed himself from the shrubs, unquestionably rendering the limp creature through a further assault that hopefully left it stone dead. He cast it aside as though it were worthless, more steamed that it had thought itself clever enough to ruin his chance. In truth that was only the half of it—minks had a particular smell. That one tasted, well, fishy. The irony, or lack thereof, was that it had been eating some before.

But as for the grouse...? He sought out Hydra then.