Moonspear time is up, time has flown

A familiar scent was what carried the dark young shadow along his path. He followed the fragrance of his father, knowing that Dirge was likely just ahead of him. The sharp yellow of his eyes roamed out beyond the mountain range and into the wilderness with some interest. After his patrol had been completed, Atlas was sure that he could find a few pieces of prey to fill their caches. With pups in the pack, he knew it was vital.
 
Picking up his pace, the shade did what he could to close the distance between himself and the agouti figure of his stoic father. Even after almost a year of age, the dark young man could not help but admire the way that Dirge roamed the mountainside. It was as though navigating the terrain had become second nature. One day, Atlas hoped to boast the same.