Moonspear born for greatness

Vivified by his mother's company, Atlas traces after her along with his two brothers and sister. A young mind always hungers and Atlas' is no exception. He is on Hydra's heels, mimicking her every action. If something has garnered her interest then it must be of enough substance to review. That's what he tells himself, anyway.

There is a burn in his legs. It seldom stays, surpassed by youth and excitement. Nonetheless, he is appreciative of it. It is not a new sensation but he knows what it means by now.

His own ears pivot at the chatter of birds. Their unending song regularly awakens him early in the morn. Sometimes, the notes of their melody changes or stops. What brings about this change he can only guess. He mindlessly brushes against Antares, preoccupied with Hydra's simple inquiry.

Birds. The answer is lacking inflection but make no mistake, he is engaged.