Moonspear Child of Dust

Of course they were hard to hunt. This information came easily understandable, now that he had hurdled the name itself. He had seen the bones, followed the tracks of one once even, but they weren't a frequent menu item on his list. Nothing he had set his sights on in earnest in his whole first year; his strengths shown in other areas, not exactly the hunt for the biggest, best targets anyway. Not from here, anyway. But, maybe it was something to pursue.. if given the perfect storm of opportunity.

He did know about hunting deer, so inwardly was thankful for that similarity of standpoints. They were frequent sorts around here and just beyond and he usually had someone or two or three around to join up for one of those hunts. But, before his thoughts completed, he was aware of how close and--hey! He caught much of the headbutt, but still sprung awkwardly up and aside as soon as he realized what was going on suddenly for a live demonstration. Recoiling, or maybe regrouping, he growled back playfully one he regained a neater stride. He would remember that.. for he did intend to take up his offer for future spars--and was glad to have found company about like his.

Anyway, his train of thought was more keen to food, like a proper growing boy. But elk are awfully tasty fresh.. he sighed afterward. Maybe there could be a time and a place for a challenge like that.