Northstar Vale yellowbark

Sylianos watched as the mouse bounded forward and then froze in place. "But it isn't running," he reasoned with a questioning tilt of his head, side-to-side, red ears bobbing along. "Can we hunt it if it doesn't run?"

Every fiber of his being said yes, and yet he was suspended in place, waiting for the mouse to do something more. His observation of it was reminiscent of a feline lying in wait; when it moved, so would he, as instinct bid him to, but until then he watched and waited with keen focus. His boyish inexperience showed only in the twitching of his ears toward their mother, searching for confirmation or praise or instruction, and the impatient shifting of his weight from paw to paw.