Grouse Thicket geimbreika

Ensio too, had left the summit. He had stolen away in the night, well before Heda's own departure. He told no one of his leave. The gradual waning of his scent would do all the talking for him. Whether or not he would even come back was left up in the air. There was no hiding the truth that he had been feeling increasingly detached from the pack.

Ahead of the creek and laying beside the gently churning waters, the nearly grown Duskfire laid, poised on the ground. A trail of scattered feathers and plumage led to his catch, a grouse, which he had pinned firmly beneath his paws. It was still alive, but unmoving. Too stunned from his blow to put up a fight. He stared down at it, into empty black eyes, contemplating his own hunger.