Moonspear born for greatness

The buzz of insectoid wings receives an annoyed snap from time to time as they often harry the delicate flesh of his ear. Even so, Atlas did not think to respond with bugs...

Mother instructs and everything clicks into place. So that is why there is a lull in their melodies. Beguiled, he looks up to the sky, careful so as to not get the sun in his eyes. Yes, he's acquainted with this stillness Hydra speaks of. It happened once during one of his forrays. Atlas wasted no time in returning to the den that day. Though young, he is not without some semblance of sense. And this sense mother wishes to hone. Very well.

Atlas pursues Hydra with careful swivels of his ears, his steps muted to the best of his ability. The laidback atmosphere turns to hushed anticipation.

The birds continue to harmonize; a medley of sound. For now.