Blacktail Deer Plateau this divine right to genocide

He too felt and heard nothing of the burrowing sort; he saw nothing of the fleet-footed hare, quail, pheasant—whatever else may have lurked and sought refuge in the undergrowth swaddling the plateau's features. He had yet to sweep every corner of the territory where terrain permitted or its outlying neighbors; perhaps the plains would turn up something, or the river that cut a jagged path.

But how he wished he would have better news when the matron's voice called out to him.

"No," he answered with the lift of his muzzle. She had turned away then, sussing on just before he laid eyes on her. It was the only affirmation he needed to continue his own, though he turned towards her. Perhaps two sets of senses would do better than just the one... and perhaps all the small, tasty creatures were wise to continue fleeing where their brazen hunters did not.