Dragoncrest Cliffs jungle bird

Hunting was as good an ingratiation process as any. Food is always on their collective minds, especially in the midst of winter. Hunger as old as bone harrys. Natjuk answers as naturally as he knows how by tracking a splintered herd that has sauntered into Drageda's claim. He shadows them, drawn to the scent of deer scat and urine. Healthy bunch. On the outside.

He emerged from Drageda's inmost recesses looking for fresh meat. How rare to have it at his very doorstep. Not that he's complaining.

There is another ahead, he notices belatedly. Female, alone, but them all the same. Hurrying along her trodden path, he comes upon her with a hunter's slouch. His anxieties were quiet, preoccupied with food and nothing else. Though he is older - and likely more experienced because of it - Natjuk sees an opportunity. For growth and closeness. Deferring to her judgment will accomplish both. Chances are she knows more of this herd than he does.