Firefly Glen Copacabana

As they snuck forward, he noticed more than once that Meerkat wasn't exactly as conscious of the sound of her pawsteps as he might have expected from someone her age. Maybe she was just excited- and she did seem to recognize a couple times that she'd made a misstep which potentially could've flushed the birds prematurely...And he found himself wondering, for the first time, if her hearing wasn't all it was supposed to be. He wouldn't have known to suspect such a thing had he not grown up with a role model who was deaf, and truth be told it hadn't occurred to him before that deafness was potentially hereditary. He tagged the thought for contemplation for another day, though he would likely forget the notion completely, unless he was reminded of its existence. 

Once he felt they were close enough, Bronco paused, one forepaw dangling as he waited, breath held still within his chest, for the telltale, chuckling noises of birds concealed within the tall grasses before them. They were quiet for a few moments- but then he heard it, soft and chuffing. Satisfied that they were close enough, he dropped his paw, crouched, and bolted. 

Like a thunderous applause, the wingbeats of the birds disoriented him a bit, and feathers went flying in all directions as the birds made a hasty attempt to catch flight before they themselves were caught. Having been the one to call the charge, Bronco was the first to come into their midst, and was able to leap and snap one out of the air before it could rise above the tall grasses, and set about shaking it furiously as soon as his feet hit the ground.