No sound, but keen eyes picked up a momentary shift of leaves to indicate something was on the move, though how far it moved he could only estimate. He was looking, claws flexing against the bark. He issued a low growl when a shot rang out, and he could use that to more closely pinpoint his quarry.

He teleported to a branch much closer, emerging as an large golden eagle without even thinking about it. He took to the wing immediately, tearing through the foliage as his keen eyes looked for the sight of whomever thought to fire at him. He circled, wing tips brushing against branches and leaves, ignoring the danger of such a position.

Clouds had began to gather and thicken over head. Little mice would be seen eventually.