It wasn't as if he had any skills for reference, so the girl had chosen the right- or possibly wrong- hunting partner today. Ink perked his ears at the invite and hesitated. His arms crossed behind his back almost shyly and he took a step back. "Oh, uh... I dunno. I'm not very good at hunting... I'd probably mess you up." He admitted, grinning almost stupidly. "But y'know, I can try." In the back of his mind, he went over what he did know about hunting.
Silence on the feild was important. Any sound could alert they prey to the predators hunting them. Coordination and cooperation. Teamwork can't be managed if partners can't get along. He knew to keep low and hidden, downwind so the scent wouldn't give him away. That was it, though. Techniques and proper stances were lost on him, having never been taught such things.
"My name's Ink, by the way. Ink Trovato." He smiled, pushing the thoughts away. The boy turned and waved her ahead. "I suppose... I was never really taught the in's and out's of hunting. My mum never got the chance to teach me." The tone of voice he used was calm, casual- he'd come to terms with the death of his mother and had accepted that he'd have to wait a lifetime to see her again.
.blue b {font-weight:bold; color:#a9e0e5;}
.blue p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px;}
.blue {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#0f0e2d; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/RsVDS.png), url(http://i.imgur.com/Bujaa.png);
background-position: center top, center bottom;
background-repeat: no-repeat, no-repeat; border:1px solid #1F571A; padding: 100px 0px 100px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#6e90b3; letter-spacing:.6px; word-spacing:.9x; line-height:13px; text-align:justify;}
</style>