Follow Closely, Little One

"-Of course daddy-" Sweeter words were never spoken. Gargoyle's chuckle continued as his daughter nuzzle into him. He flicked out an over-sized pink tongue to brush at her scruff. Her words, young and innocent and trusting, meant so much to him. Avalon, like all pups, had some special highway into his soul, some back door into his feelings that he'd thought he'd blocked up years ago. Gods only knew, the male had seen alot. He'd done alot. In a past life he had been monster, nay, a demon, and often times the memories still haunted him.

But this? This was melting the heart of the ice giant, and he found himself wanting to stay like this forever. Avalon didn't have to grow up! She could remain his baby girl for as long as she wanted. Ah, but that was selfish and silly. The main reason he'd brought her out of her slumber this morning was so that he could teach her some of the lessons she would need as she began to grow. Already Gargoyle's litter was getting large - in a few weeks time they'd be nine months old. A season more and they'd be yearlings! Orica looked like she'd remain a fluffball like her mother, but Avalon and Galileo were gaining in size and height. Both would make fine braves, so long as their sire could set aside enough time to teach them the ways of hunting and fighting.

When Avalon had finished and Gargoyle had had his tender moment, basking in his daughter's admiration, he raised his head back to it's normal, towering height. "That's my girl." His rumble was so gentle it was almost a lion's purr. But now he was straightening up. His gaze was returning a bit more to normal as he turned his mind back to teaching and stalking. "Well, Daddy's taking you hunting today. I'm sure you may have watched some of the other braves hunting before, but now it's going to be your turn. Even if it takes us all day, we'll come with something to your mom, alright?" His yellow eyes danced over the slopes as he pulled back from the cliff face and started down a long winding trail. The other day he had seen what he thought were traces of mountain goats - or were they mountain sheep? They weren't the thick coated white furry ones he was used to seeing - they were fat and brown and short-haired. Then again, that might be asking too much of the girl on her first time. They'd search for something else. She plenty of energy - a rabbit maybe? Or any small creature of the underbrush.

Ahead, and just downhill the forest began snaking out, covering the mountain roots and outlying foothills. The male was careful to do most of his speaking before they came under it's canopy. "A hunter moves with quiet, supple grace, blending it's paws into the ground and watching carefully for this like loose stones and twigs that might make a sound." The he-wolf began to slow his pace, and started taking his time, making exaggerated steps to show the techniques to her. With a flick of his ear, he silently invited her to do the same.

That was lesson one, one to lesson two. "Your nose is greatest ally when it comes to hunting. It can tell you when it's going to rain, when certain plants that your prey likes are in bloom, and of course, when your prey itself is near. A fully trained wolf can hear the click of a caribou's hock from a quarter mile away, but your nose, you can track a beast that is days ahead with that." The male raised his own black snout to the whispering winds. "Go ahead and try, tell me everything you smell."