Phoenix Maplewood up and down this road before

a cluster of grouse explode through the trees; at their heels, the huntress. she is an arrow loosed, fangs bared for the plumpest of them all. jaws close around a limb, forelimbs hit the ground a moment later as she lands and reverses her momentum. a quick and violent shake of her head, the bird is thrown to the ground and dispatched quickly. the frantic fluttering and shrill alarm calls fade to utter silence, and the woman moves to make quick work of the grouse, plucking away the feathers from it's breast before partaking in the meal, panting still as she keeps a watchful eye on the woods around. it is unlikely that the harried flight of the birds will go unnoticed. 

@Kora!