Chimera Fields Roast Mutton

His nose was twitching.  There were certainly a number of small prey items that he was contemplating going after, but with that many choices it was leaving him indecisive.  It was still much easier for him to pick a target when it threw itself in front of him.  You know, that whole giving him an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

Mal shifted, pacing a couple of steps as he pondered his next move, not sure which trail to chase as his muzzle swept over the ground.  Maybe it would be too hard to hunt here anyway.  The weather was nice and mild, providing no distraction from the shadow he cast across the grasses or the sounds that were made as he moved.  Why had he even wandered this far?  Now the world beyond the forest felt strange to him.  Too open.  Between his subtle actions and his pattern he looked out of place -- though the latter he could never change.