The sun climbed high in the new morning sky, a creamy swirl of pink pastels and light purple swayed above. Sherlock and Sasha were hidden deep in the grass, spying a plump squirrel that would serve as first-time prey, for Sherlock that is. When Sherlock and Sasha had first met, she offered to teach him hunt to hunt like a real pro. Now it was time to test his skills.
The grass, long and slender,harboured many insects squirming about including a butterfly. Sasha did not know this, but Sherlock had a deep fascination for butterflys ( in particular monarchs).
As they crept closer to the plump squirrel, Sasha diligently coached Sherlock and gave him tips.
"Keep your focus on the squirrel, and only the squirrel. Ensure that the wind is blowing in the other direction when you make your catch, that way your scent will be masked."
Sherlock nodded his head and watched intently, hind paws needing the ground in anticipation. But yet this sensation ( quite strong,in fact ) kept drawing his attention to the butterfly, who was now perched high above a blossom tree.
While the squirrel kept his position on the tree branch, nibbling on a tasty chestnut, Sasha, signaling with a twitch of her tail to Sherlock, crept forward. "Sherlock, watch him closely. Pretty soon he will be done with his nibbling and head to a higher branch in search of more snacks. We need to gain on him.. and fast. Here's the plan: when I say "go" you creep behind the tree, and slowly gain on him. Before he has time to escape, I will already be in front, and together we will have him cornered."
"Okay, sounds great." Sherlock replied, half to himself. The truth is, as much as he wanted the pride and victory of catching his first kill, his full attention was on that bright,bold butterfly crawling about the blossoms. He still had the mindset of a house-cat, and as house-cats are, they love butterflies, or really any vibrant colored creature that would grab their attention.
Sasha and Sherlock, shoulder to shoulder, crouched belly flat on the ground, slowly creeping up on their prey. The squirrel took no notice of them and was happily nibbling away on yet another chestnut, luckily he remained on the same branch.
They began to gain on the squirrel, each paw step as silent as air. Everything around them was silent and displayed no evidence of the two hunters. Even the grass, quickly collecting dew in the early morning hours, was as still as a stone.
Pretty soon they reached the foot of the tree, luckily hidden under the grass. Watching carefully, to make sure the squirrel still hadn't taken notice of them, Sasha whispered in Sherlock's ear "go!". With that, she quickly slipped around to the other side of the tree, making her plan fall in to place. Sherlock, alone, crept behind the tree and made his climb. Keeping his footing steady, and watching the squirrel, he began to reach higher and higher until at last he was right behind his prey. Then, as Sasha jumped in front of the squirrel, Sherlock made his move, about to catch his first prey until... something caught his attention that sent both the squirrel and Sherlock scrambling away.