Moonspear sons and daughters, stepping to the raging waters

attn: @Osiris 

 
Hydra investigated what looked to be the recent tracks of moose; hours old, by the look of it. She had been lucky to come across it when she did; the snow was beginning to fall again, as it oft did upon their mountain in the winter, though had not yet come down enough to fill the spaces between one mark and the next. They were wide-spread, and Hydra circled the large spot as she sussed out the details she could from what little here was left behind. She paused and lingered over an area where the snow was speckled in red dots; slight, miniscule, but the metallic scent sang to her senses.

This was enough to go off of. Enough to go forward. Hydra, feeling pleased for her finding, lifted her head and shook out her furs, the tips of it lightly dusted in white. Her tail swayed as she began to trot forward, eyes upward even as her nose hovered once more above the earth for a beat to ascertain the cardinal direction she would then travel.

Osiris had been heeding the same tracks as Hydra; the scent of moose and mother prompting his undivided attention. It had been several moon-phases since Osiris had last examined the musky fragrance, and he was eager to see a moose with his own two eyes. Perhaps now, under his mother's protection, he would be able to do just that. Osiris followed the scent-lined trail diligently, pausing every so often to sniff at the tracks that the massive mammal had left behind. 

By the time that the flurries began, Osiris spotted his mother in the distance. His paws expedited tenfold until he reached his mother's side; the moose's blood went unnoticed in his advance. Osiris' ears fell upon his skull as he reached up to nip Hydra's chin. "I smelt moose," he revealed once he pulled away, "I'm not mistaken in thinking it's fresh, right?" A few hours old, Osiris presumed.

Hydra turned to her son as he approached, hearing him before all else; she rumbled softly and greeted him in turn with a fond, gentle nip aimed at the base of his ear. She gazed at her tawny son, growing larger by the day, and allowed herself to feel pleased when he noted to her his own observation. His next inquiry pleased her further; he was beginning to truly be able to discern more now, too... old from new. That was important. 

You are not mistaken, she confirmed to him with a nod, ears swiveling atop her head. What else can you tell me? She pressed then, wondering if he recalled her other advisement of tracking. Such things would need to be explained again and again, she understood, and the importance of paying attention to detail put into context when it came to the hunt. It was an essential part of their survival, and she would have her sons know it for certain.

Osiris felt a thrill of excitement when Hydra praised him. Resuming his investigation when prompted, attempting to disclose any further information that the scene provided. Aside from the obvious indications, Osiris soon caught wind of a different, albeit familiar smell. Curious, he turned from his mother, and in the direction from which he had just came—in the general vicinity of where the blood-splatter resided. 

"Is that blood?" Osiris suspected, returning his gaze to Hydra. "I don't see any" he explained, oblivious to the nearby splattering, "But I can smell it."

Hydra watched her son, curious as to what he could discern. His reaction filled the new mother with glee; he knew blood, at least, though he could not see it yet. Hydra nodded to his inquiry so he could know he was correct there, too. As for his next statement, Hydra revealed: our nose will find what are eyes cannot spot. This is true for all things. A wolf might not look afraid, but they will smell it. A wolf might present as hearty and hale, but the scent of sickness on them will indicate the truth of it. Our prey can appear strong and in good condition, but our nose will tell us if our eyes cannot where weakness might lay. Age, illness—as I have mentioned—...recent injury, due to blood or the scent of infection it cannot fight off, she informed, ear twitching. Each of her lessons were meant to inform her children of more than how to apply their senses than just the moment they were in. 

Watchful of him, Hydra then said: look not with your eyes now, but with your nose. She did not mean for him to close his eyes, only that he ought to mind his nose more here and now. There were a great many other scents that might distract, but he had his target in the scent he had already acknowledged: blood.

Enlightened by what Hydra offered, Osiris considered the lesson that had presented itself. "I don't think that I've smelled any of that before," a thrill of self-consciousness crossed him unexpectedly, and he elaborated, "Are the smells obvious?" Osiris bit his lower lip as he waited for Hydra's response, unveiling a rare moment of self-doubt. 

Osiris resumed his investigation when Hydra has prompted him too. Although he wasn't entirely sure of what exactly he was looking for, Osiris inhaled deeply and continued his inspection. There was nothing that indicated sickness—at least, that was what Osiris could sense. "I don't think that this moose was sick or old," he concluded eventually. "But he is hurt, isn't he?" Osiris was able to rationalize this from the evidence; blood usually indicated an injury. "That's why I can smell his blood?" He couldn't think of another reason why a moose would bleed.

Hydra considered for a moment; sickness he had smelled, though he might not remember the lesson for what it was, as he had been so young. You have, she corrected, but you were young. The day we ate the apples, came her reminder. Could he remember that? When did a childs memory truly begin to collect information? Hydra hated to think her children might have forgotten, though it was far from the realm of possibility due to their youth then. The scent of disease she wanted them to remember, that particular strain one she wanted them to avoid... forever. As for fear? You would not know the scent of fear, though. Moonspear is well protected and fortified by all of our pack, she explained, though when you know it, the scent of fear for what it is, it is quite obvious. Sickness—it is obvious in that your instinct will warn you to avoid it. Her tail lashed at that; from there, you could pull the scent of sickness to know why such a thing was felt. 

No? She asked, rhetorically. The creature had not been sick, and it was not old; nor was it young, though. The exact age from there was difficult to interpret; one could not pinpoint things to a precise moment in terms of that. What could be distinguished, though, was that the bull had reached the age to breed. Her own nose was keen enough to pull such information apart; Hydra was more than adept, a near master in this ability, too. Yes, she answered then, and said: focus on that bloodscent. It is more concentrated where it has fallen, she informed. It was likely an old wound that had opened up during travel, that blood was not everywhere... but the way the blood spattered was telling, in reference to where the wound might be.

"Kind of," Osiris admitted; Hydra's reminder had stirred some recollections from the day she had described. "I mostly remember being excited, though—" that was the first time he and his siblings had left Moonspear. Perhaps, not the lesson that Hydra had wished to instill on her children. "That was our first time being away from home, right?" he asked, hoping to improve his memories. There was an encyclopedia's worth smells that Osiris had yet to sample, and he felt some comfort in knowing that there was still more for him to learn. He nodded in turn to the information, his tail's motion mirroring Hydra's. 

Given more details, Osiris was provided with a suggestion. Turning, he traced the blood-scent to where the splatter originated. An entranced, "Oh!" escaped him as he located the source of the scent—no more than ten paces from where he and Hydra had talked. Crouching before the evidence, Osiris examined it for a prolonged moment before observing, "It's not a lot," But what did that mean? Was the moose not as injured as he had previously thought?  "And I don't think that it's injured too badly—there would be more blood, right?" It was a question that sought further clarification, one which he would be able to answer on his own one day.

Hydra listened to his admittance and sighed. Likely they had been too young to truly have a grasp on the importance of knowing such a scent, and Hydra felt frustrated by the thought that he may not be able to recall it. It was not something that could be helped though, not now. It was in the past. He would need to learn from his error there, innocent and natural though it was. Yes, she answered, and spoke then: You were young; it is no wonder excitement came first then. But you are growing older now, Osiris, she drawled. Still a child, and still to have a childhood, but: there will be other new things to come for you to learn that perhaps might be exciting... some, less so. You must not let your feelings get in the way of the lesson at hand, she expressed sternly. He must, as best he was able, learn before giving way to the emotion that might come with it. 

Her tail had stilled then, and she took some steps to follow his own. Mmm, she echoed, pleased that he had observed the same thing she had in its quantity. Not necessarily, she rejoined; the snow continued to slowly fall around them, the space surrounding them still and quiet. It could be an old wound that opened up again; perhaps it has a limp for it. You can sometimes see as much in the tracks left behind, came her teachings. Hydra looked to the earth, though the herds movements intersected with their injured party in this space. Here they could not see as much, so in this spot she could not show him. Hydra finished with: typically, newer wounds in prey are easy to determine for the trail left if there is blood. This is not consistent, nor a great amount by any means, she expressed, looking to him to see if he understood.

"There will be other new things to come for you to learn that perhaps might be exciting..." Hydra advised, "some less so. You must not let your feelings get in the way of the lesson at hand." Osiris would never be the same; the lesson made its intended impression. "I understand, Mother," he replied, his voice quiet. "My lessons will come first, always." Osiris never lied. 

Hydra elaborated on Osiris presumptions, correcting him where he had been wrong. He nodded in reply, considering the information. "So this means that the moose will not be as easy to take down—since the wound is old," Osiris rationalized. "So that means that we would need more wolves for this hunt, right, Mother?" Already, he was calculating their next steps.

Pleased and accepting both of his answer, Hydra said no more on the matter. She trusted that he understood, as he had said, and approved of his response. And so their next lesson went on, one finished and one remaining. 

There is much to a hunt, Hydra expresses then, though the wound is old, it could still be a hinderance. That is when our eyes can be of help; we can observe for a hitch in its step, she explained. As far as the number, Hydra thought aloud: more can be helpful, though it is dependent on the experience of all present. If you are green to hunting, that new addition could disrupt the hunt—even though they are an added number. But that is how you learn; failure, in these instances, is not a bad thing so long as you do learn from the mistakes made. Moonspear's current hunters were well-versed in it. Hydra had led plenty of hunts since the death of her parents and by now, they were a well-oiled machine. But getting used to the absence of Amekaze and Charon meant relearning and redistributing roles; for that, to start with, it was not as though they succeeded in each hunt until they had managed this. 

Dragomir was old enough to hunt with the pack now; if they managed to find prey, he would hunt with them and learn this way too. So, the more experienced hunters involved, the better the odds, she finished, her tail swaying behind her. Soon enough Osiris, Antares, Atlas, and Vega would be joining them in the hunt; for now, they would still watch and learn until they could. Hard to believe that day would come, but it was one she looked forward to.

Hydra's knowledge was meaningful, and Osiris practiced a considerable amount of concentration into retaining the information. Of course, given the limitations of his mind, he would not remember everything that had been said. 

But that is how you learn; failure"—and failure would be what would drive Osiris to learn. 

Though he was eager to follow the trail, Osiris wrangled with his excitement; emotions were his foe, now. Every fiber of his being wiggled in objection to his self-imposed limitations; it truly felt as though he had swallowed an entire flock of songbirds, somehow. In an attempt to distract himself, Osiris re-directed his attention to Hydra—gaze cast respectfully upon her chin, of course. "Is there anything else we can tell from the blood?" he wondered, nervously driving his tongue over his lips.

gonna wrap a fader on this <3

 

His inquiry was heard, and Hydra's eyes glittered. Osiris was a bright boy, her bright boy... and Dirge's naturally. They had done well. Keen of mind, passionate—his drive, she knew, would see to his success in his life. Nodding, Hydra began to explain to him the many things blood, even unshed, could reveal. Sickness, health, sexual maturity—Hydra's diatribe would be a long one, but one that would give him the answers he sought. Late into the day would Hydra teach her son, and then beyond that she would spend more time with him and his siblings as she so often did.