Moonspear the notes of a strained refrain

It was good that Atlas had caught his father. He’d always enjoyed the time he spent with the man, though he understood that they both kept themselves busy enough that it did not happen as often as it should. It did mean that the dark yearling was eager for the opportunity when it did arise. Though his father did not know it, the day that he and Hydra had taken Atlas to hunt and track had inspired something within him – a drive to get better. So when the golden male remarked that he had been following a herd of elk in the southern valley and he was looking for help getting a headcount on them, the shade looked to Dirge with a warm smile and immediate flagging of his tail.
 
“Sounds like fun,” Atlas answered.
 
There was an eager willingness when presented with the idea of tracking. The inky figure might have enjoyed the finding and following of prey more than the takedown. It was satisfying, he wouldn’t deny that much. He enjoyed playing the roll of the rogue and striking from the side, cutting off their prey from a means of escape. The more that he had found himself growing jealous of his brother’s hunting prowess, the more it had pushed him to do better on his own. Atlas was eager to prove to his father that he had grown in his skills.
 
With one glance toward Dirge, the dark young beast began the move toward their intended destination.