Hoshor Plains razer blade eyes

The sight of a running bird across the plains was not so uncommon, with its stilted legs reaching, and tufted head almost bowed. A classic show of predator-versus-prey, with the desperate coyote hot on its heels, at least until the third zag to its zigs, at which point the coyote was out of breath and not fast enough to compensate.
All her effort to learn to hunt within Mereo, meaningless. Out upon the open expanse of this grassland, things were different — difficult, dangerous.
And so Nazli starved.
She watched the horizon for signs of the bird but having lost track of it, and feeling too disoriented from the spurt of energy that she had expended, she stood upon a hill of dry grass and panted openly to the blustering wind, and began to move on.