Moonspear maybe in time

His focus had been about to slip when he heard the not so distant rustle that had to be Atlas. The crashing was followed by more much closer to where Altair lied in wait, and his keen eyes caught sight of the rabbits as they moved between thin shrub branches and tousled grasses. His body tensed, muscles coiling and priming as they drew nearer, but the rabbits took sight of him too and veered.

It did not stop the young boy from taking after them, missing the first as it volleyed over his prone form despite the click of his teeth so quick and close to its fluffy white tail. The second zipped past him as a stony blur, but the third found itself in his crosshairs as he honed in on it. He was motion now, rising and lunging out to snare it by a leg.

And it screamed.

It was an awful sound, so unexpected that he almost let it go.

But the rabbit had almost slipped free in the moment he had let up on its leg but the hooded Ostrega clamped down with force, and felt something snap between his jaws. The taste of blood was not new to him, but this time it was warm; alluring, almost, such was the way of the hunt. Excitement coursed through him—he had caught it! He had almost lost it too, but that was far from the point.

Like a playtoy, he shook it around though it was far from deceased. The screams had ceased, the rabbit long gone into shock but the fear was in its eyes and unseen by the much larger wolf. His chest puffed out with pride as he stopped shaking it, and it hung limply from his jaws. It watched its world from an upside down point of view of terror, and knew the darker wolf would be coming.