He wasn't the greatest hunter himself; three legs meant he could not run, or at least not very well. Granted, when he needed to, he ran--but never for reasons like hunting. When he had to fight, that useless fourth leg was undeniably used--the pain from overuse usually attacked for days on end thereafter, but in the midst of battle, he couldn't feel a thing but rage and determination. That blind rage that encompassed his battles and whited out his memory of it all later was only useful for that reason. But as for hunting... well, he'd learned how to be quiet enough to catch what he needed, and he always just did so on two legs where he had enough speed to get what needed to be done, done.
Jefferson's steps slowed somewhat as his nose was raised to the wind, detecting the smell of some easy prey. Eye flashed from side to side; an early-rising squirrel was scavenging out in the open. They were generally the same speed as a rabbit, or so he'd observed in his younger months when four legs were of use. Quite a bit less meat, but squirrels were far more common than rabbits this time of year one way or another, so Addison could catch as many as she wanted as long as she did it right and didn't send them sprawling up a tree. "All right, Addi... you see the squirrel?" His voice had dropped to a low, careful whisper and he motioned subtly at the small animal in the distance. "Watch me and be quiet. I'm going to creep up on it slowly and as quietly as I can, and then grab it." He turned and started for it; two legs were the worst of things to hunt with, as he was like a tower over the small things and further from the ground altogether. The Patriarch made a silent, careful slink towards it as it moved this way and that, paying little mind to his approach. Of course, as he neared it, a misguided twig found itself under his heel and promptly snapped in half. The squirrel was off running just like that, and he darted right after it, cussing and swearing obscenities as he went.
It got up a tree and to safety shortly thereafter, leaving a bitter-eyed Jefferson glaring up the tree after it, panting and trying to catch his out-of-shape breaths. "Goddamn," he grumbled loudly, then shook his head and looked at Addison. "Well, you get the idea. Go find one."