Grouse Thicket out of the mist

Soon, the grouse were within their sights. Ten or twelve of them, foraging in a tight knit group. They were alert little suckers though, never keeping their heads down for long. Remembering how quick they were to scatter when danger threatened, he tried to stay still. He crept forward with small, inching steps.

Sneaking a glance in the direction of Ulrich, he tried to gauge the other wolfs progress. To see how close he had gotten. The Northern boy was relying mainly on instinct, guess work and common sense. The wooded area did offer several places of cover. One being a hefty, old stump of a felled tree, that hovered just past shoulder height. He tried to creep towards it, to hide and wait.