Lesson Two: Don't falter

The Warlord fainted to the left, avoiding the flailing hooves of the lead stallion, who had found him and taken offense to his attack on the herd. The Warlord knew that no matter how sturdy he was, a good kick from this heavy hitter could cave his head in.

The rest of the herd was still running, and his son was off the prairie and near the treeline. The Warlord snaked forward, swiping his claws across its flank, and then rolling free before it could tramble him. He got back to his feet, staring it down. The rest of its herd had passed by now, and the foal was lost to them. The stallion flared its nostrils, pounding the earth before it, and then turned, racing after its mares.

Sirius let out a breath of relief, and turned, trotting to where his sons took on the foal. By the time he arrived, it was dead. His boys had shown a measure of teamwork, and he nodded his head, pleased. “Good job, now we need to see to the pelt. Mortis, I want you to start snipping from here, to here.” he demonstrated where he meant. “Azure, start peeling it as he goes”