It was pre-dawn when Basilisk got quietly to his paws. He didn’t have to look far for Spider. The pup had mysteriously wound up tucked in between them during the night. So small and fragile next to the mountain of a wolf, that he had started to pay more attention to his movements, even in sleep.

He nudged Spider gently, careful not to disturb Hazel who was used to him keeping odd hours every so often for pack duties. As he had adjusted to with her. When Spider opened their eyes, he motioned for them to keep quiet, and ushered them gently out of the sleeping quarters, and down the treehouse stairs. He didn’t speak until they were both at the bottom, and wouldn’t disturb Hazel, or Halo and her kids.

“Alright, today we are going to go hunting. Predawn is an excellent time to hunt. You in?”

He asked, looking down at the tiny creature.

"Speech"

someone was nudging them. grunting sleepily, Araneae bats them away with a clumsy paw and tucks their nose under their tail. "mfph...gerrof." it's only after several moments that Bas' scent stirs them into proper wakefulness, and by then Araneae is struggling to their feet and trying to hide their embarrassment at being caught cuddling with sleeping alongside the adults. now that they're awake, they're more than eager to follow Bas out of the treehouse, practically bouncing with energy. Bas was so cool! what would he show them today? what games would they play? it turns out to be even better than they'd imagined. "we're really gonna go hunting?? i'm totally in! letsgoletsgoletsgoooo!" “speech”

He fought a laugh at their exuberance. He could feel his lips twitching with it, and he struggled to bring them under control. To keep his expression serious. Hunting was important, after all. Serious business. “Hang on, hang on” He said at Spider's excitement. “We need to go over the basics first” He explained.

He crouched down low, so he was closer to the small wolf's level. “Do you know why predawn is a good time to hunt?” He asked, to get Spider thinking about what they were doing. Questions were helpful, right? He hoped so. He’d never actually mentored anyone before

"Speech"

Araneae’s brows crinkle in thought, gaze turning thoughtful as their mind whirls with possibilities. they want so badly to earn Bas’ admiration, to surprise him with some valuable piece of insight. predawn…predawn. subconsciously, they work their claws into the earth beneath their feet, scuffing up dirt in deep contemplation. finally, their ears perk, and their tail begins to wag in excitement at the prospect of a correct answer. “because…because the animals are waking up to hunt?” it makes sense to them; if you were a prey animal, wouldn’t it be best to hunt while the predators were still asleep? but then again, maybe the prey would realise that the predators had figured out their schedule, and so they’d change hunting times to outsmart them? but then, maybe they knew that the predators would realise they were trying to outsmart them, and…and… argh, it was so confusing! “speech”

Basilisk nodded his head at Spider, it was a valuable contribution even if it wasn’t the whole of it. “That’s true, and that also means that a lot of prey animals are more active at dawn and dusk. It’s also darker, and that gives us some camouflage when we are hunting” He explained. Especially useful for a wolf like Spider who’s coat of gradient blacks was perfect for the shadows. It was almost like they had been bred for hunting.

“Alright, let’s start on tracking. What can you scent around us right now?” He asked, keeping his voice soft, and his eyes on the younger wolf. It was important they remember to use their nose, and tracking was a vital part of hunting

"Speech"

Araneae nods along dutifully, hoping to show Bas just how attentive they’re being. they want to learn to be the best hunter they can be, and to do that, they need to be the best student they can be. “dawn…dusk…camouflage…got it!” at Bas’ instruction, Araneae scrunches their eyes shut and crinkles their nose, trying to pick out an individual scent. it’s hard, at first, everything a jumbled whirl no matter how diligently they try to wade through those conflicting smells. but after several attempts, certain scents become individual to them. several heartbeats later, a particular scent presents itself to them, defined enough that it twigs a memory within them. “is that…vole?” “speech”

Spider repeated it back to him, showing they had been listening. He nodded his head approvingly, and looked to see how well they would scent the woods around them. There were a lot of scents to block out when you were isolating prey.

When Spider did find one, it was smaller than he had intended. Having forgotten that while he was a giant, Spider was such a tiny wee thing. A vole was likely a much better choice then a deer, or anything even bigger than that. He took a few deep sniffs himself, isolating the scent they had found. “Yup, definitely Vole.” He agreed. [b] “Alright Spider, now we are going to track it. You need to move quietly, and check the wind. Make sure you're approaching the vole against the wind, not with it. You don’t want it to get your scent.

"Speech"

Araneae beams, thrilled to have been correct. they've got this hunting thing in the bag! listening attentively, they begin to move forward at a cautious pace, brow furrowing as they consider where to put every step. they give intermittent sniffs every couple of paces, just to be sure they're definitely going in the right direction. it's a little hard to keep still, especially considering how excited they are; every couple of steps they get a shiver down their spine, born of pent-up adrenaline. but then they steel themselves and try to picture the delight on Bas' face when they snap the vole up between their jaws. as they creep closer, a clump of grass shivers nearby, and Araneae has to shove down a yelp of delight when they catch sight of a pair of whiskers. okay, okay. just breathe. you've, like, totally got this. one step, then another, slowly, slowly...crack. Araneae freezes, staring down in horror at the twig they'd snapped underfoot. they glance desperately over at the vole, now mere feet away, and dismay washes over them as a pair of black eyes stare back with unabashed terror. a beat passes. then Araneae is dashing forward in a desperate scramble, and the vole is darting away through the grass, squeaking in fear. they give chase for a few moments, pushing themselves, but it's no use - soon the vole darts out of sight, it's lingering scent quickly fading. “speech”