Panther Park Ideals of a Disturbed Mind

Slade flicked a halfhearted attempt of an ear to the woodpecker that announced it's home creating to any who could be withn distance to it. After discerning the noise, the Sire swiveled the auds back to the smartass. A snort left his maw, the challenge shedding nothing from neither the brute's pride nor pelt.

"That is for me to know, and for you to find out."

He was Slade, not Santa Paws. He wouldn't hand out gifts like they were willy-nilly, no. This was a test, and no cheats were to be given, only hints, if that.
The ingrate was lucky he got even a confirmed location. However, as hard as Slade was on the onyxian, Slade slipped up too on rare occasions, giving the heir more than he would have any of his other Nightmares. A softspot he had for the youth, though admitting it was nowhere in the horizon.

"I advise you make your move before the next month. They're quite the travelling lot."

With that said, Slade turned deftly on a dark hind, padding silently towards the nearest cache for an easy meal. He had hunted hard for the last two weeks, and this was a wonderful moment to relax, basking in the ambiance of the nocturnal hours.