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Hunting in the thicket became easier the more familiar it became. She wandered to a small clearing lined with thorn bushes and huddled near to the fringe. Her coat was useful as camoflauge, the black stripe between her shoulders blending nicely with the barren branches. 

A small flock flew overhead. Ying watched as one bird drifted toward the ground and hopped from one station to the next, flapping its wings as if to take off. She leapt forward but got her paw caught on the thorns, resulting in an embarassing tumble and no bird to claim.

She shook the debris from her coat and moved on. Another bird sat nestled in the crook of a branch. Ying settled into a hunter's stance and prepared to pounce, but as she did, her snout bumped into the rotting wood. She fell back to the ground and tried to blink the tears from her eyes which were only worsened by the shock of a falling tree limb.

The huntress was beginning to lose hope. She began to walk back toward their meeting spot when suddenly, a blue jay appeared. It was pretty enough to catch her attention; Ying watched in awe as she settled back onto her belly. She crept carefully forward but the bird was wise to her attempt. It flew away, just before it could be caught, leaving her with nothing to bring to Arcturus.