Morningside Cuesta Hunt for who we've not yet become

In the commotion of the hunt, Sylvas had manoeuvred himself to the opposite side of the hunting party, having had a similar idea to that of Grayday's and so, Sylvas silently positioned himself to cover the left hand side. And as they quietly prepared themselves, watching the rustling of the tall grasses, Sylvas felt his body become tense as Kieran finally pounced, allowing the drama to unfold around them.

Golden eyes were focused as many feathery bodies began to scatter, attempting to escape them, fluttering off this way and that through the brush, frantically trying to flee from eager open jaws. And though some had gotten away within the scurry, Sylvas had luckily caught one that had barrelled blindly toward him. He stood, clutching the dusty bird tightly by the throat, till its body fell limp, his gaze soon searching for Kieran and Grayday.

With a little bounce in his step, Sylvas trotted closer to the others as they spoke, allowing his own pheasant to drop from his mouth and down to the ground with the others, ”I definitely agree!” Syl said happily as he peered to Kieran and Grayday, his bushy unkept tail giving a wag behind him, ”That was really good, especially for your first son. You even did better than me when I went on my first hunt.” He chuckled, peering proudly to the boy.