a trophy father's trophy son

The bear was looking raggedy, and far worse for wear. Dread was pleased with himself, and it seemed to him that it was time. With fervor, he launched himself into the bear's throat. Teeth gnashing and snapping, before finally sinking into the creature. It was a killing blow, but far from a clean one. Blood splattered against his face, and gore caught in the crystals that protected his neck. There was so much of it, and yet here he was. Covered in all of it. There was something nearly therapeutic about it.

He was panting as he came down from the now crumpled bear carcass. Dread gave a great shake, trying to clear his coat of the blood and flesh that wasn't his. Though the boy's shoulder stung, he didn't mind. Head held high, rather proud of himself. As the yearling caught his breath, his attention turned to his father. "Are you okay?" It was an earnest question, looking to the Warlord to begin checking for any signs of injury.

"Dread Fatalis"