Ouroboros Spine you were the only one

Pheasants, eh? Sidewinder had never claimed to be a good—or even decent—hunter. He was much better in slow, calculating moves. Hunting required an entirely different skillset than he had been brought up with. It was his other littermates who had been taught the more physical skills. Sidewinder had always been more interested in his father's other skillset. The one that involved more social skills. He had taken to it quickly, and as he was now going on his fourth year, he'd had plenty of time to hone in on those skills. And really, his whole life revolved around the skills he'd been taught as a child.

“I won’t lie,” Sidewinder replied, fully aware of how amusing that statement was to him, even if Mordecai likely had no idea (or hid it very well), “I’ve never been much of a sprinter.” That much was the truth, obvious by the fact that Sidewinder was a large beast, hindered by his size and weight where others might have excelled. He was unlike the small Mara, who probably would have done well at such things. “Perhaps I could flush them, and you could do the chasing.”