Stab

Cerulean blue eyes followed the movements of his two birds as they glided gracefully back and forth in the cool air over Alias Island, dipping around the dense evergreen woods that lines the lower elevations of the island's terrain. His lips curled up in a wry grin while he watched them and they watched him, waiting for him to test their reflexes. His paw flexed over a pinecone, neither side moving, just staring, nerves tensed. Then, with a sharp whistle, Saracyn tossed the pinecone into the air as high as he could. His black falcon Veior dove for the pinecone, snatching it up with razor sharp talons in the blink of an eye and crushing it to pieces. Saracyn tossed another pinecone into the air with another whistle, and this time Vindr dove down after it, catching it with its talons before likewise ripping it apart. A proud grin crossed Saracyn's lips at the effective lethality of his new avian friends. If he dominated the ground with his massive physique and dangerous teeth, his birds would own the skies.

Sitting back with a sigh, Saracyn looked around the familiar land of Alias Island. Oh, how he'd missed his home! He still didn't understand why Mom and Dad had forced them all to leave so abruptly, but it didn't matter now. They were all back home and staying for good this time. No more stupid, tiring travel, no more having to pretend to get settled in to a new home only to have to pack up and move again a half season later, no more pretending to be fine with not having something to call his own. This... this was all theirs! It always had been and always would be. Since he was a little puppy, this island had been what he'd known as home. Now as he grew and was aging into a tall, lanky adolescent with nearly enough inches on him to rival his sire, he had a fierce pride in their private island home and in his family and pack.

His mother calling his name caught his attention and snapped him out of his idle daydreaming, turning to face his dam with crooked smile. "Hi Mama," he called back to her, waving a white paw to her. Manea asked if he'd like to help her with some crafts and make some weapons for himself, and Saracyn's usually cool, indifferent eyes lit up with excitement. "Oooooh, yes please!" Saracyn had always been fascinated with the weapons his parents and pack mates used, longing for the day when he was old enough to have some tools of war for himself. It seemed his patience had paid off and that day had finally arrived! Rising to his paws and shaking out his coat, Sara gave a short, sharp whistle to his birds to follow and then padded over to join his mother. "Where are we gonna make these? I have some ideas for things I'd like to try."

WC: 497
Total: 1,045 / 1500

"Saracyn Mendacium"