Fuja crouched sitting with her sword behind her. Her feet rested upon the brown stones damp with the morning dew. Her sword cutting threw the moss on the ground as she moved forward tip toe by tip toe. Her tail fluttered behind her as her simmering hot gaze stared with intent at the large doe in front of her. At that moment she could only think of one thing as her mouth began to salivate as she could taste it. She slowly would think about all the ways to prepare it as she crouched down getting ready to sprint after she saw a opening. When she did she struck forward with great speed as if trying to pounce on the animal. It would try to escape, and make it a good ten meters before she would catch up to it and put all her might into a glorious spinning blade strike., at least before she completely missed it and the weight of the sword took her on a few more spins before she eventually let go throwing the great sword at the deer and puncturing its chest with it on accident. After getting up off the ground from being so dizzy she'd look at the the impaled doe and say, "With style," Before removing the sword from the doe, and carrying them both back to the nearest inn or tavern.