Moonspear 起死回生

  “Wake from death and return to life” — attn: @Antares

 

Hydra had returned to Moonspear's relatively recent kill (just before she and her cubs watched smoke rise in the distance) to scavenge; it had been large enough to not store every bit of it, and there were still plenty of scraps. Upon her arrival to it, though, she saw the familiar form of the same bird she had longer ago than that; it was still here. Before irritation came relief, and she snapped the former away if only because she had to discover if there was benefit before vexation settled. 

The Queen did not snap or gnash her teeth as she normally might; the circumstances and the strange things she had seen caused her aggressive nature to be given some pause, though her instincts were ever eager to fight. Each cog within her mind geared her instinctive reaction to be such when matters seemed less than ideal rather than flight—here, though, she saw an opportunity to quite literally take advantage of the latter. Have your fill of our kills as you always have, when we go, Hydra determined. It was young, this one—not so big as its fellows she had seen in her own lifetime. though alert me to any new, fresher finds—or things we can hunt, if you would like to keep food in your belly. The creature simply watched her, and Hydra felt warmth creep to her cheeks; could she even be understood? Was it only some birds that heeded wolves, not all? Maintaining what dignity she could, Hydra lifted her head and all but begged the question in her ever-steady voice: do we have an accord? 

It hopped once, twice, three times away before taking flight—Hydra answered for it, voice low: no, then. She would chase that damnable thing from every corpse she found; she would hunt it and feed it to her cubs! 

Digging into the days old meal, Hydra ate her fill before tearing more of it free from itself to return to her children, who her mate supervised while they dozed. Their mother returned to them quickly enough, having known where the kill was and having not been too hungry, yet... it seemed wise, though, to eat while they could. They had not yet delved into their caches; she counted Moonspear most fortunate. Were they not owed this much? Hydra threw the meat against stone and gazed to the sky, thinking of her parents unfortunate end. 

Yes—they were owed some peace. She thought of Speedy, too, and looked over her shoulder. An idle dream was that the bitch and her children alike were snuffed out by whatever the cause of that, though more Speedy than the children, truly. If not them all, she would be glad for just the one. It would likely be a more painless death than she deserved, but when one upset the balance of things death simply came when it would, she supposed. 

Turning her head back to the mouth of the den, Hydra basked in the silence for a little while longer. Another moment of brief peace while the cubs dozed still... though it was only a matter of time before meatscent caused one to stir. Who would be first?

Lately, he does not take much convincing to rouse; he's eager to go without a lot of encouragement, even if he's good at staying stoic about it. Usually carrying a vague sense of restless though, some times more than others, when his nostrils flared over the scent of food, that fresh interest took root quickly. Motivation was soon to follow and with his eyes narrowing against the shift, he got to his feet and silently slipped forward to go greet his newly-returned mother.

For now, he was alone as he took in her scents, new and old alike. His siblings would likely be soon to follow but he was content to forge on without alerting them on his own. Quiet, he gazed upon what she brought them, then panned up to her for a searching glance before he stepped forward any closer towards Hydra--his head lowered but ears up, tail wagging slow. Already he had learned to read the scene, even if he did not always expect to understand it.. but he was always an inquisitive boy, even without always saying so outright. 

It was a very small sound, but he rumbled a little chuff to say hello, and of course, that he was at her call now too.

It was young Antares! She was surprised to see it not be Osiris, in truth, food-motivated as he was—but they were all growing, and slept as often as they ate, romped, and learned. They had their fill of all of these things, and wanted for very little [she liked to think]. Hydra chuffed to him in turn, her eyes not leaving his frame until she seemed to have come to some decision. She rose, picked up the meat, and dropped it a little further away from him before she returned to his side. 

Pretend it is alive, she asked in a low whisper, do you remember what your father and I did, before we took this down? she inquired, her eyes searching his face for any indication that he did. Her muscles twitched in anticipation of another demonstration, even should he recall—but for now, she reminded him of nothing. What was their retention like? Only they could tell her that; it increased the span of her patience, and reworked her mind on opinions she had once come to. Her children, she liked to think, were brighter than most in thanks to those that taught them; just as she and her own siblings had been [she also liked to think]. She is still as she observes him, waiting for his answer.

When she moved the meat away, his ears flicked up from their splay and naturally, sights followed her every motion, anticipating something--a fact, a lesson, a test of him--all commonplace, and regular parts of routine. He is used to her eyes upon him, even through others as well, so it was nothing new to him as her instructions came with a question.

Once she said to pretend it was alive, Antares had let his eyes narrow back at the meat with this in mind. Stalk.. separate, the boy spoke quietly and  recited pieces of the plans to most hunts, from near to the beginning for what he knew. Of course, his lessons in tracking had told him there was much more that went into it to actually be successful.. but for simplicity, yes, these were important fundamentals to start at. Then, where active interest picked up next: Chase, pounce, bite--get the throats, he said, an eager glimmer whisking over his navy eyes then like some vague anticipation--he knew all the key points, he believed. Only his details needed ironing, all side-effect to his relative inexperience in the grand scheme of life left to live on the mountainside.

Hydra nodded to him; he remembered several of the important parts, which was good. Today they would focus on but one piece of that. Today, you will stalk, Antares, she informed, and properly. Her ears swiveled atop her head as she moved alongside him now, crouching low. There is no cover to stalk in here, but that does not matter. Our coats blend well enough with shadow and stone; keep to that, when you are able, she advised, if there is nothing else. Now, begin—stalk toward your quarry, she prompted, gesturing toward the thing she had brought for her children to eat. She wanted to see how well he could do it without further advisement; was it instinctual, she wondered? Or was it learned?

After the proper affirmative, she zeroed him in on one such fact he could turn readily towards: stalk. Properly--too, yes, all good and he nodded a measured motion, careful even as his every second beat with quiet, earnest fascination.

So, certainly wanting to improve his technique, the young Ostrega was intent and said nothing more as he listened on. His mother gave generous pointers, and following the lead she set down before him, his glance jumped first to the "quarry", then to what was between him, and there.

Shadows dappled the ground where they could reach, some larger, steadier--some more where the ground was already darker shades to begin with. He had never weighed this quite so minutely before, but with Mom's mentions still loud, clear, and fresh in mind.. he had to; he only took a few seconds to consider it, but he knew he was made of shadow himself and slid into a careful step forward into a route that eased him over their darkest points, following the shadows' hearts. In the motions that carried him on, he drooped his head, and set each paw down with consideration of quiet. Stalk, he reminded himself, trying to visualize the most hidden, shaded path--one that swung a little wider around the item, but such was the nature of the purpose. Stalk, came a steadied breath as he drew nearer, not trying to rush any of it considering the instruction.

Getting close, it was hard not to just rush into the anticipated pounce, but mother said stalk, so lurk long and low he did with his eyes glued to the prey although it could not hear him to flee from his looming approach. After he started to arc around it some, he finally glanced to his mom, looking for her judgement--hopeful for approval, or any indication for him to fix while he still was in the middle of it.

She observed her son with bright eyes. 

Antares carried within him the instinct for what it was she had requested him to do, and she wondered if that was what it was or if he had a talent for it. He had listened to her well, as ever, and she watched his form meld into shadow. Stalk he did, though too quickly did he move—though this was but a sample of what he would someday do, Hydra wanted to guide him so he would be more than ready when the day came that he hunted with her. 

But it seemed he did not rush! Because then he lingered, low, and for a decent amount of time too; pleased by this, Hydra drew nearer to the quarry—not stalking, but prepared to continue their exercise—head turning and eyes finding him where he had lingered, quiet, watchful, and waiting. Now, you give chase, She advised, eyes bright as she then lunged for the meat and darted away, the edges of it dangling—but she would not let him catch it so easily, ever evasive so as to simulate what the hunt might be like.

Not met with any resistance, he sent that focus into keeping it all reined in while a prowl was still the name of the game. He did not have the finesse to keep his tensions completely unseen--definitely not yet, but his foundations were there, and building up by the day. While his body stilled, mostly, he still spoke his volumes, loudly--in his furs and the muscles taut below them and the dart to his navy eyes--of anticipation and a carefully drawn eagerness that was waiting and waiting and waiting for the next step to grasp for, which when she moved to make it so, he was honed in.

Chase. Yes! He bolted forward, absolutely no hesitation to follow that particular command, and here was one he had done a lot of in playing with his siblings to help prepare him. Quickly, surging off his hind-paws, he gained his speed and kept locked on the dangling meats. Now he had something a little more tangible to go on, so it all came easily.

But his mother was strong, fast, and she outsized him still--distance was easy to gain with all of this in her favor, and just like any hunt, there was more to it than just some straight, simple route. Thankfully Antares was tenacious, and though silent in the snarl he drew back his lips with, he liked this part as he pursued intently after her quarry like he would one day after real game. Readied all to twist, turn, and dart, he was teeth first after the prey she taunted for today's lesson in life.

Indeed there would be; Hydra engaged his senses, romping around their rendezvous and never keeping much of a straight path. The meat flailed, and for a time she ensured she kept out of her sons reach... easy enough to do, for a wolf with her skillset and stature against his own. It was all intentional; Hydra acted the part, here and now, of healthy quarry; she boldly turned toward him and stood there, nostrils flaring as she squared off, standing tall and self-assured as she stared at him baldly. 

A soft noise was the only indication she gave to advise him to tread careful, here, to think. 

Dirge and Hydra, when they had taken the children to watch, had come across such a bull elk; separated from its herd, the initial belief had been perhaps it had fallen behind due to injury. No such luck, though. Whatever the reason it had not been that, and even experienced as they were Hydra and Dirge had sought out to teach their children to be wise in the hunt, not rash and bold and foolish. For when it came to the hunt, there was no room for such behavior. And so, after testing it and assessing it was in good health, they moved on to the next hunt—a successful one, at that. 

But not every hunt would be successful. The mated pair had taken care to reveal that the untameable wilderness was not always so very giving. 

In any case, here and now, Hydra stood boldly before her tenacious son, acting like the surly bull they had found (understandable, given they had been out for his life) as best she could. He had been still, patient; age had granted him wisdom that wolves could sometimes lose interest if there was no chase... and sometimes, to demonstrate their good health, they themselves chased. That in mind, Hydra swept forward with a low grunt—wondering what he might think to do.

She shared with him enough to keep him seeking more, always. Not only in what he could physically grasp with his greedy teeth, but any expenditure that eventually set on to polish his future skill--or so was the overarching plan to a nature like this. He simply pursued, hungry for any brush with the victory she dangled in front of him, and stood poised for the next challenge as she shifted gears. His ears shifted, thoughtful... but lessons had taught him already, he knew to think on his feet.

It wasn't all offense, all defense, or all always entirely even hunt in every aspect. A gentle push and pull where he would see with that that finesse and power went hand in hand. He would have to know when to relinquish control, and go with the flow--then how to use that to his advantage. 

Anyway, Antares found her boldness' new flavor awfully ominous, and would not stay immediately in the way of any momentum of that sort. He shifted his own trajectory to newly swing wide again instead of on the direct path forward, head on. With a lot of energy coiled on his own, he was swift to choose the route that kept him in motion, seemingly perpetually so to try and approach from the rear. He wasn't going to be a stationary target either and simultaneously, difficult to keep track of as his goal remained a good solid grab on the success he desired.

For as long as she would tolerate him, he would try to keep up. Eventually, if he waned or she changed the name of the game, he was her student, and at her mercy.

im gonna wrap this one bc im greedy and also snatched up the fresher one >_>