The sun was out, shining down across Serpent Plains. The grasses seemed to dance in the soft Spring breeze as he lay on top of the den and gazed out at his pack lands. A soft sigh shuttered out through his lips, head resting on his white legs. He was having a very rare moment of peace, although he was sure that one of his children was going to come and ruin it pretty soon. It was nice while it lasted though, tail sweeping across the flat stone. He was glad that the harsh winter was gone, and that prey was slowly returning to Abaven. Rabbit hopped through the tall grass, his golden eyes locking in on one now. Maybe he should teach the pups to hunt soon, and how to avoid the snakes that made this plain their home. There were a lot of snakes that posed no danger, but some had bites that held poison as well. But it brought a lot of good prey with it as well. Well, it looks like he was going to end his own moment of peace.

Standing up and stretching out his limbs, Bass raised his head and called for Lark. His dark down son seemed to be different from the rest, a bit more drawn apart from the rest. He had been trying to spend a lot of time with his kids one on one, and today was Lark's turn. Leaping from the top of the den to the earth, toes curling into the dirt as he stretched out his body and prepared for some hunt training.

Though he'd been born in the dead of winter, Lark was quickly growing accustomed to the warmth of spring. Unlike some of his siblings, he was not exactly one known for admiring beauty, but something was refreshing about the earthy scent that filled the air and the gentle warmth of the sun upon his back. The heat was stronger than he was accustomed to, absorbing into his dark fur and he found himself panting softly as he wandered his home quietly.

Though he was content to spend a bit of time alone -- exploring, letting his senses be overwhelmed by all the world had for him to see -- he was grateful when he heard the gentle, familiar call that suddenly rang through the air.

His father's call was not something easily ignored. Quietly the boy would redirect his aimless wandering, turning to head toward the source of the summon, to the flat plains. Why did he want him, he wondered? It was surprising that none of his other siblings were there, as he drew near to his father, and though his tail began to wag behind him he still found it curious that Bass had only called him.

"Dad," his small voice would come forth easily. Though not nearly as affectionate as his littermates, he was obedient to his father and love shone readily in his gaze as he approached him.

Bass grinned as the brown boy made his way to the den, tail wagging as he called him out. He could see the love in his eyes, and resisted the urge to race forward and cuddle the boy. Lark showed his love in a different way, affection was not his love language. So he sat on his rump as he beamed at his son. "I thought that we could spend some time together, maybe do some hunt training if you're up for it," he said softly, pale tail thumping steadily against the earth. He had yet to teach his kids anything, and the man was very eager to teach them the ways of the world. The man stood and stretched out his muscles, a yawn parting his jaws. Shaking out each limb he couldn't help but nuzzle Lark's left cheek, a chuckle slipping from his maw as he walked passed his son. His ears spun behind him to listen to see if the boy would follow, he hadn't given him that much of a choice though. He was quite sure that Lark would follow though, how could he turn it down? Plus it would just be the two of them, surly a nice break from all his crazy siblings.

Bass crept slowly through the plains, dropping low as he walked silently on his paws. Turning over his shoulder to see how Lark was doing, he winked at him as he took a few more steps. Pausing, Bass dropped his pale body even lower to the earth until the long blades of grass tickled his belly. Extending each leg in a slow creep, he walked slow enough so that Lark could see how he was doing it. Pausing to sniff at the air, he picked up the scent of a few minks. The slinky creatures would be fun to practice on, they were fast and hard to see. A hard prey, but it was no fun to start with something easy. Looking back at his son again, his smile was soft as his voice dropped down into a whisper. "Do you smell that, Lark?"

It was strangely comforting when his father's call reached his ears. Though he was a serious boy -- far less sweet than his siblings, prone to being slightly cold and even a bit detached, his family meant the world to him and to be guided by his father was something he longed for. Without his parents, and without his siblings, he felt as though he'd had no purpose at all in this world. And his love was displayed in a rare, sheepish smile that crept over his lips, briefly cracking the stony exterior that he wore so often now, as his father nuzzled his cheek. Though he was growing older, there was familiarity in his touch and he would not deny the affections of his father, even if he might not return them as readily.

Bass told him that he wanted to spend some time with him, maybe work on hunt training. "I'd like that," he agreed gladly. The extent of his hunting consisted of chasing small rodents, which was really more of a form of entertainment than a means of providing sustenance, for he knew as he grew he would need to eat far more than the occasional rat or field mouse.

There was little hesitation in the rather large boy's gait as he trailed after his father, mirroring his posture easily. He, too, would dip into a crouch, feeling the grass begin to tickle his belly as he moved. His own nose dipped to the ground, catching the scent of a foreign creature in the air. "Yes," he answered his father softly, his voice breathy and low, not wanting to disturb whatever if it was that they were searching for. "What is it, Dad?"

As he looked over his shoulder he saw that Lark was crouching just like him, and gave the boy a smile. He was already setting such a good pace, keeping up with Bass with ease. Lark was growing fast, and he was sure that the boy was going to skyrocket passed his siblings height, as well as his own. Another tall Destruction, something that was rare indeed. When Lark rose his head and sniffed, he turned to Bass to ask what it was. He was still impressed that the kid picked them up that easily, there were tons of other smells that would distract the nose if you weren't trying to focus. But clearly the brown boy was quite clever, a swell of pride showing in his eyes. Lark may be the most quiet and reserved of all his children, but it didn't mean that he wasn't paying attention. Bass just knew that he was going to grow up to be a fine warrior -- or whatever he wanted to be. He had the mindset of a leader already, as such a young age. Bass had no doubt that it would be this boy beside him that he would train to take over the pack.

Dropping into an even lower crouch, Bass turned to Lark to answer his question. "That smell belongs to a 'visone', or a mink in English," he said in hushed tones, introducing it in Italian first before he did English. He had yet to call together a training for his kids to learn the foreign language, but he still liked to sneak a few words in here and there. "They are a type of weasel, like an elongated rat really. They are fast and smart, but their fur is soft and their meat is tender. Be careful of their teeth though, they can still bite at you even when you are chasing them down. You have to be prepared for a good chase, Lark. Do you think you can pull it off?" there was a bit of challenge in the Azat's words, a brow raising as he inspected his son. They weren't the easiest prey to start with, but Bass liked to put them up to a challenge. Otherwise it would be easy, and it wouldn't prepare them for just how hard it really was to hunt larger prey.

The time spent alone with his father would be cherished, though his expression was void of this gratitude, instead taut with focus as his ears pinned flat against his skull and his eyes narrowed attentively. There was focus in his green stare as he looked ahead of him, searching for whatever they were trailing in the grass, noting he could smell it long before he saw any sign of the creature. It was quite distinguishable from the other scents around them, something unfamiliar to him -- which is why he could pick it up with such ease. " A visione," he mimicked his word softly, testing it on his tongue, finding these foreign words much more difficult to repeat than the ones spoken in his normal tongue. Still, he knew it was important to his father and he wanted to learn the language himself.

The regular word for it was a mink. It was a long rat, Bass explained, and he wrinkled his nose slightly, wondering if he'd be fast enough to catch it. "I'll try," he uttered softly, not totally confident in his abilities to catch the mink but wanting to try regardless. With that he would creep forward a bit more, nose twitching as he caught another whiff of the creature's scent. Slowly he would swing his head to the side slightly, redirecting his movements slightly toward where he thought the animal was headed. "Think I should chase it now?" his soft, barely-audible question came as he tilted his head to his father's ear, wondering if he ought to begin the real hunt.