After a hawk cry pierced the air, a well-built young man clothed in black ascended a boulder with two to three leaps. He then stretched out his left arm to serve as a perch for the diving tercel.
The tercel's small, shining eyes darted about as it released several sharp cries.
"Congratulations to the Young Chief for taming the fiercest king of the hawks of the plains in our Western Wilderness." A thunderous shout came from behind the young man.
When the young man turned around, the wolfish eyes buried within the bangs in front of his forehead emitted a cruel and overbearing glint.
He raised the tercel on his left arm up high.
In an instant, his several hundred personal attendants down below erupted into uproarious cheers.
"Young Chief, Young Chief! Young Chief!!"
The young man was twenty. He was tall, and his skin a wheatish color. His hair was done up in small braids, and his facial features were chiseled and handsome.
