Cedar Sweep On the Pitch of the Avenroe Grasses

In exercising his tracking skills, Bronco was beginning to learn the finesse of differentiating species by the tracks they left behind in the snow, which made it easier for him to pursue his prey with more speed. Even with other tracks crossing in the snow, he trained himself to focus on one trail, following it to where it would eventually, hopefully, lead him to a source of food- which, even then, only occasionally resulted in the reward of a successful hunt. 

He had learned as a child not to bother with skunks- but as far as he knew, they were in hibernation. But he caught sight of another unusual set of tracks and pursued it until it led up what seemed far too thin a tree for the creature to have had any business climbing it. Halfway up the flimsy, thin trunk- which was about as thick around as one of Bronco's forelegs- was the round spiny bundle he recognized immediately as a porcupine. He growled. He'd been quilled before- but it was winter, and he was less picky. He circled around the small, slender tree's base, before he finally plucked up the courage and began to use both his weight and his teeth to give the sapling a good shaking. He was able to rock the tree back and forth- but not quite enough to loosen the porcupine's grip on the thin bark. They were good climbers. In a huff, Bronco continued to circle the base of the sapling, occasionally thrusting his weight against it and then leaping back to hopefully knock the porcupine from its perch- and to avoid getting a shoulder full of quills when it fell- and like a dog with a bone, would continue to do so for at least the next twenty minutes. 

Finally, his persistence paid off- eventually, he managed to thump the small tree's trunk hard enough that the porcupine fell, and didn't quite manage to avoid getting clipped in the shoulder by the obstinate creature's tail as it fell to the ground and quickly righted itself. Bronco squealed several times, loudly, in surprise and anguish as a handful of quills penetrated the skin of his shoulder and he turned to face his foe, who looked back at him with beady black eyes, grating her teeth in a warning to him.