Moonspear looking for an avenue to simply appear

There had been a new face at the rendezvous site—he had seen her come and go and perhaps unlike himself, he had shied away. Of course, there had been plenty of other exciting things going on in the world of Altair. Like grasshoppers. Annoyingly bright green grasshoppers, or at least that what was his father had called them.

He was very much about them today, another notch on the tree of hunting.

Problem was, they were very clever, and very quick, and Altair was only partially one or the other on any given day. He was clever enough to know they were going to jump as soon as he got too close—one thing learned of them—but the deftness required to snare them between his little teeth were another.

While the rain had stopped for the moment, complete with a sliver of sun to pierce through broken clouds, he was finding frustration instead. His teeth clicked together as another one leapt away (or was it the same one? Who knew.) and an angry huff escaped him. His complaints were to follow as such: a low moan in the tall, waterlogged grasses, and a careful glance over what he was tall enough to see above if anyone had heard him.

If @Mira saw him now, she’d probably mock him. He was certain of it.

But what about that aunt of his that he hadn’t quite met? @Keres?

Mother had told him her name, but he didn’t know anything else about her.

His face set into a very Ostrega-like grimace for a moment, and then he resumed his hunt.