The Osprey glances at a squirrel and shoots it. When it falls, she catches it, glancing around for a good place to settle down to skin and cook the animal for a quick snack. She looks toward the sun, estimating her hours of daylight. When she deems it too early, she wraps the squirrel in some leaves and puts it in her bag for later. She continues to walk, shooting random things. She sighs through her nose; this trip is uneventful. [i]Too[/i] uneventful. She debates her decision to go to DC.