Moonspear he tests his might against what his eyes can't see

The boy had not yet learned to track on his own. The Ostrega pups were still too young to have ventured into those lessons. It did not mean that he wouldn’t occupy his time with attempts. If they were to be positioned on the mountain until they were older, Atlas would take all that he could from his limited terrain. The scent of his mother had grown stronger, and so the young titan followed it with surprising accuracy. It was an aroma so familiar to him, it felt almost like second nature to trail after it. Hydra moved swiftly, though. The boy was forced to pick up his pace several times in order to remain on her heel.
 
When the distance between them had fallen to no more than eyeshot, the burly young beast was spurred to life. His large paws lifted and carried him as swiftly as they could. Only once or twice did he slip against a wet stone or sink too deeply into the snow before his paws found the earth. It was a feeling that he was not entirely accustomed to. So, fighting against a terrain that seemed almost foreign to him, Atlas conquered all that he could before pulling up several paces behind the blue-eyed leader of the mountain.
 
“Mother,” the young hound breathed in a smoky voice, filled to the brim with youth he had not yet managed to shed. The firelight gold of his gaze trailed where she had been looking. Atlas wondered if she had been preparing to venture toward the borders, or if her eye had been drawn by a passerby. Of course, he did not ask her, and those thoughts died away almost as swiftly as they had arrived in his wait to see if she would respond.