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

Hydra heard his words, and nodded. She hoped he would not; she hoped he would practice and learn from this. His youth and inexperience was to thank for his present one, and fortunately Hydra had learned through experience that this was the way of things. No one, herself included, was born able to simply do and succeed every time at that stage in their life. Good, she simply drawled, to the point. She would hold him to it; should he practice, she had no doubts that he would be able to. 

When he said nothing, the mother explained: the rabbits trail ended abruptly given a hawk plucked your mark from nearby. It has been said that their eyes are far better than our own; sometimes, this will happen. It has happened to me several times, she admitted, moving to meet him again to stand alongside him once more. sometimes a feather will betray it, but for the most part when the scent of small game we track simply disappears, we can safely come to that conclusion. She explained this to him so he would better understand that this was a natural thing. Hardly a failure; nature had a way of humbling the proudest creatures, herself among them. The matriarch understood that this was one thing she could not beat; unless the hawk was low enough to the ground that she could intercept it, there was nothing to be done for it.