Emberwood Osprey meets weasel

She had glimpsed it a moment ago, and again now, its whippy little tail bouncing along behind its frantically-pumping hindquarters. She could hear it, as well; its panting little breaths and thunderous panicky heartbeat, and the delicious fear-laden scent of its hot-blooded little body was so strong she could practically taste the deermouse on her tongue already. It was quick, but so was she, and a wide, evil grin was pasted across her face as she darted after the tiny creature. No escape now, little mouse! Hope you've made your peace and are ready to meet your maker. Nynka put on a burst of speed, and had just outstretched her jaws to turn mouse into meal when a loud, raucously cheery voice from above startled her, stopping her in her tracks and causing her to instinctively jerk aside.

Nynka whipped her head up to search the overhanging trees. She'd been so fixated on the land just in front of her and the mouse skittering across it that she had paid virtually zero attention to the rest of her environment. It took her a moment to locate the big black-and-white bird leaning over the treelimb to peer down with somewhat unnerving interest. The shiny beak seemed to be smiling down at her from this angle, but then again when did those bizarre birdmouths not leer at all the passerby regardless of their owner's actual feelings. Despite its sharp beak and the wicked points of the talons that dug unrelentingly into the treebark though this bird did in fact actually seem to be friendly. At least for now. ...Nynka's gaze flickered back to her quarry just in time to catch the last glimpse of the deermouse's long tail as it whooshed underground and out of sight. Her own expression soured, and she stumped over with a much less bouncy stride than usual as she picked up the little thing's trail again.

Now look what you've done, she groused at the big bird as she craned her long brown neck at an angle that let her look as straight down into the mouse's hidey-hole as possible. How deep had it gone? Was it worth trying to dig it out? Maybe it was a shallow and impromptu hiding place only chosen out of desperation. Nynka was unable to see so much as a whisker down there, though, which only left one way to find out. With another quick check to make sure the bird was still firmly ensconced on its wooden perch, Nynka began a furious moment of digging. Hheeeeere little mousie-mouse, she singsonged softly, half under her breath, as her paws furiously scratched and scrabbled. You can't get away that easily...!