Moonspear the notes of a strained refrain

At the mention of Altair, the dark yearling swung his head around and searched his father’s face. It seemed that the younger boy had enjoyed their time together. This was a relief; he had not imagined that the child would try to conceal it if he hadn’t had a good time, but Atlas worried that he was too quiet for children sometimes – too stern. More than this, the dark son found it rather enjoyable that his younger brother had made a great tale of their adventure. He liked the idea of Altair growing into a great hunter and storyteller, imagining that it would be something different and something delightful to witness.
 
“Ah, I’m glad he had fun,” the yearling responded with a small shake of his head.
 
“You know, he’s got some talent for hunting. He might like to join the next group hunt, just as a spectator,” Atlas then went on to say. Meerkat had played a similar role in their small group hunt. He turned to search his father, wondering what Dirge would think of his proposition. Of course, he did not wish to dictate a path for Altair. The young pup would surely find his own passions and desires. He merely wanted to show the younger litter that they were valued and would eventually play an important role in the pack.