Grouse Thicket out of the mist

Ensio caught the signal and tensed. Ulrich rushed seconds before he did. As he began his own charge, it was total confusion. Fluttering wings, a flurry of feathers and panicked alarm calls. Blindly, he snapped his jaws. Aiming for the closest set of mottled brown wings. The prey was quick to skitter away, out of reach.

Growling, he whirled and tried again for another target. He used a swift, darting motion this time. Tried to slam his paws and chest down on the bird at the last second. When he thought he had missed, getting nothing but ruffled feathers in his vision, he was about to try again. Then, the feel of fragile foot poking against his chest. He had barely pinned the bird, which was still struggling. He pounced, forcing his weight on it, ending it mercifully with a twist of his jaw to it's neck.

One catch was better than nothing, he decided. Glancing to Ulrich whose efforts had been less productive, he nudged his catch to him, insistent. He and his pack needed this more than he did. A parting gift to remember him by, before moving on.