Silverlight Terrace and we keep trying

The featherd buggers were quick and, where nature had given less than a correct amount of intelligence to an individual bird, the collective weight of their brains equalled Wraen's own set. Having several pairs of eyes instead of just one, it was almost impossible to creep up on them without at least one bead-like globular organ (that's the synonym to an eye in google) taking notice of her approach. With each step she took towards them, they retreated just as much and kept the distance the same as it had been before.

Wraen was a patient wolf by nature, but now the lack of progress began to annoy her. She shot a glance in the stranger's direction to see, if she had any luck in the field, and then without a warning, the gray she-wolf made a sudden, fast move and dashed into the flock of the birds. They scattered in ever direction, voicing their protest at this kind of treatment loudly, and fluttering around, but settling on the ground once more. At least she had found one thing out - these guys were not much of a flying kind. She looked at her companion, wondering, if she had got any other conclusions on the matter.