Porcupine Ridge The crownless again shall be king

It was easy to take the treacherous ridge for granted when it took little more effort to reach it than any other elevated place in the park, at least for a creature gifted with flight. As he soared higher on the warm push of a midday thermal, the crags and crevasses smoothed out to a rocky plateau, made to appear decades worn by the illusion of distance. It was a sight to be awed by, but Narsil's sharp eyes wandered elsewhere, almost bored by the uniform ripples of rock and sparse, treeless expanse that left little to the imagination. He wasn't particularly hungry, but there was little even to be bothered with in terms of game.

Narsil banked out of his warm column of air and began an easy descent, scanning for wolves as the ridge loomed closer. It was a long shot, but the eagle's search had no real deadline, and he would simply continue on with his life and keep an eye out as he went. His parents had said the strange wolf had gone in this direction, but that had been months ago, and Narsil was far from optimistic. He gave an indifferent whistle and clipped in his wings, picking up speed and stalling at the last moment to alight on a gnarled, windswept tree that was clinging to the ridge by its last vestiges of roots.

The young Persian Prince was never one to turn away from danger, the sight of the uneven trails did not deter the scout. His pace had slowed to an almost crawling speed as each paw was settled on the rocky terrain letting his toes flex and paw pads grasp at the granite surface to hold him balanced and steady. Altair was in good shape and reaching the summit of the ridge had its rewards. His jewel like green eyes caught sight of a couple of lizards sunning themselves on a couple of flat rocks nearby - probably not expecting to find any predators up so high and so remote. A wicked grin reached over his muzzle and the chase began. Altair was slower then usual, wobbly over the uneven landscape but he had luck on his side. One of the two lizards attempted to hide under a small loose rock. With a yank of his paw on the side of it the shelter was heaved aside and deadly jaws would snap up his prize within seconds.

A wry chuckle muffled from his jowls that held the small fresh kill and his body would flop to the ground. The corpse spat out in front of his chest between two outstretched forelimbs. Altair had yet to even see the golden eagle that shared the ridge with him today. After all why would a predator such as himself need to look up? Instead Altair was far to preoccupised on what he had caught. Even toying with the lifeless lizard as he begun jabbing it in its side with one of his blunt canine claws. Dance lizard, dance.

Little escaped the raptor's sharp vision, and Narsil's perch gave him the added advantage of height on the already elevated ridge. He had been watching the wolf since he had crested the nearest shelf of rock, but the canine had been too far to be scrutinized very well, at least until he began hunting. The wolf's movements steadily brought him closer to Narsil, and it was soon apparent to the bird that his guest had a distinctly patterned face that was viscerally familiar. Those bright green eyes really closed the deal for Narsil, who had only been a chick at the time.

Shifting awkwardly on his talons, Narsil weighed his options. There was little sense pretending he hadn't seen the wolf now. He softly clicked his beak to himself and contented to watch the wolf toy with his prey for a few more moments.