Moonspear born for greatness

 By the 5 week mark, pups may accompany adults on short trips away from the den. Weaning occurs during this stage and pups will speak their first full words in week 6... Since y'all are 6 weeks, let's explore! All welcome. @Atlas @Osiris @Vega @Antares

 

When the sun rose, so too did Hydra, and she roused all four of her cubs. Today, they would do something new. They were old enough to meet new faces and see new things, and Hydra was ever eager to broaden their horizons beyond the scope of the den she had whelped them in. It was not yet time for them to move to the rendezvous, but they could move their legs a little more, and she would encourage this so long as they were not alone. 

They would not go too far, but far enough to exercise their bodies and their minds. Hydra's pace was mindful of her children, and she idly sniffed at the earth. An ear flicked, taking in the chatter of the birds and surrounding wildlife, while she did so. She paused, looking to her children. What do we hear? Hydra inquired. She herself was still learning of what her cubs were capable of understanding, knowing... but in their days together, she was keen to identify sounds of the wild to them to fill their mind with knowledge.

Vivified by his mother's company, Atlas traces after her along with his two brothers and sister. A young mind always hungers and Atlas' is no exception. He is on Hydra's heels, mimicking her every action. If something has garnered her interest then it must be of enough substance to review. That's what he tells himself, anyway.

There is a burn in his legs. It seldom stays, surpassed by youth and excitement. Nonetheless, he is appreciative of it. It is not a new sensation but he knows what it means by now.

His own ears pivot at the chatter of birds. Their unending song regularly awakens him early in the morn. Sometimes, the notes of their melody changes or stops. What brings about this change he can only guess. He mindlessly brushes against Antares, preoccupied with Hydra's simple inquiry.

Birds. The answer is lacking inflection but make no mistake, he is engaged.

Very eager to see these broadening horizons he was gradually being granted, the dark cub followed along all too readily. Undaunted by newness, he moved on after his mother's lead, mingling with his siblings sometimes and dropping back to sniff something longer at others.. but largely, he did stay with the group--not about to be any reason for holding them up, because he did want to see where they were going, and what else there was along the way.

So he was taking in the sights, and the sounds, while his nose wiggled nonstop over air and soil alike.

Largely, he made for a quiet pup, but their mother warranted it out of him as he swiveled his ears around in pursuit--and he isn't looking to be overshadowed by Atlas' answer really--even if his is the best one in his opinion. In thinking about it, birds was what he heard the most of, but that wasn't all there was. ..an' bugs, he provided in his little voice after his brother in much the same way.

The sons she expected to responded did so swiftly, and she glanced toward @Osiris and @Vega to see if they themselves had any input. Their interest was not enough for Hydra, who desired more of their input—but she was feeling forgiving today, and their curious looks meant at the very least they truly desired to know what this lesson would inform them of. Indeed, she responded, voice soft. Birds, and bugs. There had been a reason she spoke to them frequently of birds in particular, and Hydra's ear twitched as she turned on her heel to pause and listen. 

It is important to listen to them; birds know first when there is danger to avoid. All the smaller creatures of the wilds know to listen to robinsong; and the chickadee, too. It is their only form of protection, for they cannot fight the hawk—so they must take cover, where it cannot reach them. Hydra looked to the faces of each of her cubs, lowering her head a measure to ensure she had their attention fully. Today we will walk, and we will listen. You must learn their warning song, she informed, tail lashing behind her. They were growing bigger, and the threat of them being carried off by an avian creature seemed to reduce by the day, but there was more to it than just that. It was honing their attention and their senses to what would come to be their first indicator of a threat: sound. 

How sometimes, the wilds pulse increased with its panic. And how others, its heartbeat seemed to stop altogether.

The buzz of insectoid wings receives an annoyed snap from time to time as they often harry the delicate flesh of his ear. Even so, Atlas did not think to respond with bugs...

Mother instructs and everything clicks into place. So that is why there is a lull in their melodies. Beguiled, he looks up to the sky, careful so as to not get the sun in his eyes. Yes, he's acquainted with this stillness Hydra speaks of. It happened once during one of his forrays. Atlas wasted no time in returning to the den that day. Though young, he is not without some semblance of sense. And this sense mother wishes to hone. Very well.

Atlas pursues Hydra with careful swivels of his ears, his steps muted to the best of his ability. The laidback atmosphere turns to hushed anticipation.

The birds continue to harmonize; a medley of sound. For now.

She was quiet, but it wasn't out of insolence or shyness -- rather, Vega was taking it all in, much as she had since birth. Soon enough, her personality would erupt from its shell, revealing a calculated boldness not unlike her mother's; but for now, she was studying, observing, and finding her footing in this new and challenging world.

Obedient, she listened as Hydra posed a question and two of her brothers offered answers. Solemnly, she nodded her agreement, and she paused in her step long enough to turn her gaze skyward, searching for the birds and bugs that were spoken of. Today they would be learning, and it required them to rely on their ears. They would pay attention not only to what they could hear, but what they couldn't hear -- and the implications of that silence.

She hummed thoughtfully, but did not voice an opinion otherwise, though her gaze was sharp and her ears were pricked.

After gleaning some satisfaction in her confirmation to them both, Antares listened dutifully first to his mother, and carefully next to the thrum of the nature still around and beyond her. It seemed it truly was Atlas' answer that they were really looking for and studying now that Hydra guided their focus towards such a source, all towards which he turned readily, his ears up tall and an understanding taking its shape. He took it all in--around, above, then maybe a little past that. Everyday, and seemingly every moment, those bounds expanded.

On a newer alert, he steps lightly, and keeps listening. There is much for him to learn still and he might not have the words to say so, but instinctively he trusts that his mother will guide them towards where they need to be to sate these curiosities, and flourish.

Hydra was grateful for their silence, and continued onward once it looked as though they understood. For a brief while more, Hydra moved onward with them. She let them investigate and observed them all the while, watching them observe. She spoke on: it is good to know, and to notice. Listen for the squirrels fleeing, and watch as the other creatures take cover. For now, it is good to do as they do, if no one is near. She understood that in their youth, she might not always be there though she wished to be. She would not leave them dumb and defenseless until she did discover them. It was only when the birdsong changed in its tempo that Hydra herself reacted, gesturing beneath her with a commanding: come. 

@Osiris was first, and who came next she was not certain as her gaze shifted skyward. A warning, she murmured. Danger comes. Her ears swiveled as she took in the pitch, and she looked to her children. An eagle. Some can carry the likes of even Osiris, she forewarned, gazing to his rotund belly, though not while I am around. Hydra's tail lashed at that thought, and as the creatures did as they must around them, Hydra murmured: what do you see? Hear? anything different?

They continue on their trek, none of them uttering a sound save for Hydra when appropriate. She gives form to their world, saying they should do as lesser creatures do when they are alone. Not the most appealing prospect to the bold whelp but he's done it before to save his hide...

Attuned to their surroundings, Atlas takes note of the birds' change in tune, much like Hydra. How she knows it to be an eagle soaring through Moonspear's skies he does not yet fathom. Did she, perhaps, see something he did not?

To hear of Osiris' potential doom brings about a frown. Hydra says she would protect them and Atlas thinks, without a preamble of doubt, that he would too. Even as inexperienced and futile as he is. Surely an eagle cannot carry two fat cubs!

To answer the Alpha's question, he peers into the skies once more. He sees nothing outside of the ordinary. It could be he is looking in the wrong direction. Nevertheless, he's not about to stay silent.

I hear animals running, he whispers. That was a given, however. Not a good enough answer. Running, hiding. He rotates both ears empirically. Birds aren't as loud. Actually, they were getting more subdued with each utterance. Is he being too loud? No, that's not it.

Telling electricity shoots up and down his spine. Atlas is unable to pinpoint where the action is about to occur but he knows something is about to go down.

Something's about to happen.

They continued onward, until their mother gave a simple one-word command: "Come." It was this single utterance that was enough to influence Vega to shift closer to Hydra, sidling against Osiris with her golden gaze upturned expectantly. Hydra spoke at length of danger -- an eagle, perhaps -- and the mention of it was enough to send a chill down Vega's spine, though she quickly squashed the feeling of fear. She had nothing to worry about, here with her brothers and her mother. She reminded herself that this was a lesson; a learning experience.

Hydra asked again for her children to identify what they could detect with their senses, and once more, Atlas was the first to speak up. Vega had come to the some conclusion as her brother, after receiving guidance from Hydra; the normal sounds of the wildlife around them had dimmed unexpectedly, almost as if on cue. She nodded, then added in a hushed voice, "They're scared." The smaller animals were frightened -- the birds, the squirrels, the chipmunks. But she wasn't; her trepidation was quickly turning to exhilaration in the face of something new.

These are life's lessons, and at Hydra's heels, he drinks them up. From the knowledge she imparts, to the sights and sounds he can take in for himself.. a basal part of him can almost sense the sheer vastness of it all, and that this is just the beginning. He follows his mother's guidance and her lead in all things, for it was in his best interest--and she is willing to teach them early to be sharp, keen, and aware.

When urged, he keys in towards the source of a warning like this. Well, he tries to find it. First he glances over his mother, naturally having heard her, then past her.. around, beyond. First across his line of vision, then when he hears about an eagle, he moves it up, skyward--around there then too, enough to warrant an entire turn of his body.

As for what he heard? Saw? Everything felt a little different. Maybe it was just because he was looking, and listening, but he felt something new that wasn't here a few moments ago--well, maybe it was more apt to call it an absence of the tranquility from before.
 
His teeth clicked shut as his brother got the answers voiced first, and since it came in even more words than Antares was going to give it, he simply rumbled his agreement quietly: yeah, all that.

He didn't need to add more noise to any of it. Antares chose to only listen very carefully, breathing slowly, deep, and practically feeling the nature of the anticipation vibrate all around them. He wanted to see what would come next.

Hydra knew because her days of tracking aided her in ability to deduce what each birdcall that sang of alarm meant. It was not what she could see, but what she could hear and had educated herself to interpret. This pitch, she had learned, meant eagle. Several times she had seen the warning answered several moments later by the diving creature, but it took many tense minutes. Once certain her cubs were out of reach from such a beast, Hydra gazed overhead while listening to her children answer.

Nothing in sight, yet. They were correct, and she rewarded Atlas and his true attention to detail by looking to him and rewarding him with a, yes, very good, before glancing to Vega and nodding. But she elaborated on the observation of her son, looking back to the sky. They are afraid; fear is something you can smell. Can you? She asked, glancing toward them. Could they pick apart scents, yet? Would they know this new one for what it was? Hydra looked back to the sky, listening for it their answer before she went on. 

They do not want their own homes to be discovered, so after the warning is given, things become quiet. It can unnerve some of our prey. None but for the birds can say once the danger is gone, but our prey can be impatient. I have seen— she paused, movement catching her attention in her peripheral. Her gaze snapped left, and she whispered, watch.

A rabbit, young yet plump from the fruits of Moonspear, fretfully ran in a panic. It had found cover before in its stillness, and yet likely thought the best place to be might be its own warren... it was wrong, of course. The rabbit was beyond the forest, seeking to find refuge in it—

It was ensnared within the grip of the eagles talons in seconds. For the species, it was not terribly large—the animal was plucked from the earth, and carried away without any ceremony except for its own panicked shriek which faded with every wingbeat.

They're right to be scared. Even now, beneath the ever reaching protection of their mother, Atlas senses dread. Rather, the imitation of dread. Not for his family, of course. No, this is new. It is the trepidation of prey around them, scurrying to their homes with a terror so entwined in their very beings they can't help but emit it.

Atlas peers into the forest with a pensive expression. Fear can be smelled, says Hydra. While Atlas does indeed believe he can smell it, there is more to it than that; something freshly awakened and provoked to a furor. He nods at his mother's question. If he knew more, he would have tried to elaborate on this alien sensation. For now, he noiselessly ruminates whilst absorbing everything their mother has to teach.

Unpracticed eyes draw to the critter's movements. There, under tree and brush, scampers a rabbit.

Atlas quells that instinctual urge to give chase.

The eagle, however, does not. In one fell swoop, it plunges its talons into its frenzied prey. The rabbit vainly struggles, trying to thrash about to do what, he does not know. Dislodge itself from the raptor's grasp, possibly? It is too late. With several powerful beats of the bird's wings, it is airborne once more, squealing quarry in hand. It fades into the distance before vanishing altogether behind the crowded treetops.

What an amazing thing to witness, the drama between predator and prey. So much so, Atlas can only say but one word: Whoa.

It was uncertain whether Vega could really smell the fear that her mother indicated, or if it was imagined. She was rapt when listening to Hydra's words, and even if it wasn't something she could yet detect with her senses, she could picture what it should be in her mind. In this way, she was learning far faster than she might have otherwise. She was becoming aware of the nuances of life on the mountainside with her mother's guidance and tutelage.

She felt brave, knowing she was under Hydra's protection even as the world changed around them. She blinked past her brothers, her gaze moving to the left at Hydra's instruction, and she found herself holding her breath unintentionally. First, there was just a rabbit, sprinting out from the cover of foliage and across the rocky terrain --

And then, there was the eagle. It seemed to come from nowhere, and had Hydra not alerted Vega to the warning signs, she would have been surprised. She tensed, her toes clenching into the dirt, but did not move; her eyes were wide as she watched the great bird disappear with its prey, restoring their surroundings to relative peace.

All too eagerly, his attention springs to his mother's prompts, even with perception distracted still from the last fact she had given for them to digest. Now, and more by the moment, he was fit to become more aware of nature, it's rhythms, flows, and signals, some all more delicate than others as some of them played out in real-time before them. There is a quiet awe in the young cub, mixed with that instinctive alarm and anticipation, and he gleans his satisfaction from feeling these truths for real himself--even over that age-old din of fear on the wind, effecting him too--but can he find its truest source? He looks, and..

The rabbit's flight brings his senses to a new height with a place to pinpoint, and then just afterward, as if on cue, a great bird descends. Antares' stare is wide-eyed, and his every fiber in still--watching carefully, so not to miss a second.

Quickly, with a mighty flap of wings, its prey is seized and it is said and done; the rabbit carried off, and he exhaled the breath he had held. Nature's peace was soon to follow, but still he had nothing to say.. just a quiet bit of new understanding to call his after seeing that unfold. That was why his mother had pointed out what she had, and why the wilds themselves had told her so.. he trusted absolutely in Hydra's understandings, after all.. so only after a long moment watching the bird's retreat did he turn back to her, wondering what was next.

Hydra's gaze shifted to her cubs, who were all in perfect order. They were awe-struck, and Hydra was not surprised by it; she wanted to inspire the amount of caution necessary to survive. Hydra had never thought herself invincible or immortal in her lifetime. She knew she was strong, but she strove to ever become stronger; she respected the strength her adversaries may have. The wilds were another thing she respected. Nature was as brutal a thing as she was a woman, and she would not have them be ignorant of this. It could get them killed. 

In time, the sounds of Moonspear seemed to return, little by little. Hydra's ears twitched as she peered around them, licking her chops. It would seem all is well. Come, time to return home, she decided, taking a step in that direction and moving on once they followed her lead. 

Fade with your guys posts?! <3

To bear witness the endless toil of the wilds, Atlas rethinks his position in this world. He never thought himself so high and mighty in the first place but what just transpired before them all was affirming.

Letting loose a rankled shake of his diminutive body, the Ostrega plops after their mother with a healthier dose of fear in his heart.

His senses remained fixed upon the sky all the way back to the den.

After a few breathless seconds, the wildlife around them slowly resumed their business. Vega noticed first the chirping of a much smaller bird overhead, and then as her ears turned she became aware of the skittering of a squirrel's paws through the underbrush nearby. Now that the eagle was gone, and presumably satisfied with its catch, the other animals were safe. It was like the creatures had all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

It may not have seemed like much, but it was a moment that Vega would remember going forward. As her mother intended, she would use the cues of others to her advantage. When Hydra beckoned for her children to follow her back home, the only girl fell into step with her brothers; like Atlas, her gaze kept skimming their surroundings, as though she expected the eagle to return.

All was well.

Now knowing that, he turned towards the den with a new insight into what all lie beyond, and how fast it could change--then how to tell. It will all forever be a work in progress, and he is hardly more than a little speck on this mountain still, but these are important foundations to all of the greater things he will one day be.

Following the mountain alpha's lead, Antares is quiet on the way back, his puppy nostrils flared, and ears pricked tall. He will definitely sleep good after this.