Honeyed Pasture keep your heads held high.

Dio seemed just as disappointed with the ungulates as Artaax, but after a moment of quiet deliberation seemed to deem birds a worthy enough prey. The boy's ears perked at the question posed and he stood a little straighter as he nodded. "I do a lot of bird hunting," he answered, lifting his chin slightly with pride. Birds were his chosen prey. They didn't provide much of a meal, at least not for a crowd. But they did provide a challenge, and the boy very much enjoyed a challenge.

His dual-toned eyes shifted across the tall grass, nose twitching furiously, taking in every last speck of information his senses could gather for him. He had no interest in song birds or small prairie fowl, of which there were certainly plenty. He was more interested in the scent of wild turkey that was buried beneath it all. Artaax pointed his nose back down towards the dirt and began to move forward a few yards, veering this way and that for a few minutes until finally he stilled as he came upon a promising trail.

Artaax lifted his head to look around for Dio, his ears falling back and his head bowing when he caught the man in his sight again. He hadn't meant to be so bold in taking control of the hunt. He hesitated now, allowing the older, higher ranked male to take control of the hunt, now that he had found a promising trail.