Sun Mote Copse tell me that story about the west again

Behemoth tossed his head over his shoulder, pale yellow eyes staring down the brightly painted man. Sharing was out of the question for such a territorial beast as himself. Without a word or even a dirty look, Behemoth set out a bit quicker. Large paws seemed to thud against the the earth as he closed in on the bird. He knew he was likely startling it with all the nose but he enjoyed the fear of his prey that came with the hunt. He intended to treat this bird better than the vole though. If only because tossing such a plump bird around seemed like too much work.

He lunged but when he pulled back he had only managed to yank a few feathers off the tail of the grouse. Which had reasonably sent the creature running. With a displeased growl, Behemoth gave chase.