Noctisardor Bypass sunday morning coming down

When summoned, Grub obeyed, though when she slunk up to her father, she tilted her head to look up at him and said, "I am Hunt." It still came out sounding like "Haunt" on her unpracticed tongue. Neither Grub nor Malrok suited her tastes as she grew and developed preferences, a personality. And if she ever realized her error in pronunciation, she would likely find it suited her just as well. She was both a hunter and a haunter: a quiet, ghostly but (one day) deadly presence.

Whether or not he honored her didn't matter. The words and their meaning still rolled through her head, whispered in her blood. She lived for the hunt, most days. Today, though, she thrilled at her father's words. They were no longer babies; she concurred. They would learn how to patrol; she accepted. Most importantly of all, they were leaving the den for good. That made today the best day of Grub's Haunt's life.