augur had found something in the burned place of the rise.
he circled the object, pawed at it. he nudged it with his muzzle and boofed lowly at its unmoving surface.
it was the petrified pelvis of an abnormally large bison, perched on one side and nearly as tall as the wolf himself. he had uncovered it with a round of bored digging.
augur circled again. he looked around for any of the others, wondering what they would make of his find.
if only Augur knew.
bones had been sacred to Astara and Averna; Avicus had seen it herself, the altars and shrines they kept. the pelvis. another pelvis.
her breath caught as she stumbled upon the scene, lying low for a second so as not to reveal her sudden weakness to the man. once she had composed herself, she rose once more, padding toward him with her chin lifted in inquiry.
she almost asks a question aloud, but remembers he, too, is like her mother. wordless.
she traces the darkened curves of the skeletal remains with her muzzle, gaze wandering over it before it returns to Augur. she touches her nose to the center of it, slowly. closing her eyes.
ma,
she whispers.
augur did not understand worship.
but he did recognize reverence.
he stood deferentially near red woman as she explored the bones and murmured to herself.
a low dirge erupted from the boy. it was a song that greeted death and accepted it. he sang for her. he sang for himself.
after a moment's consideration of the pelvis, she pulls back and joins in Augur's song. it is wonderfully wordless, mournful, heartbreaking. she shuffles closer to him and their shoulders brush as they cry together, muzzles tipped near the sky.
Raven Hollhow,
she says, once their call has ceased, gesturing around to name the place as such. name for my ma.
Avicus presses her nose to his cheek, then moves it toward one ear, giving him a quick, gentle nip there. 'hhank you,
she whispers, and then moves away, stalking around the pelvis.
a relic. she is not religious—not spiritual, even. flesh and bone is all she knows, and this the latter. . .she treasures it, especially amid the grounds named in honor of Astara.
augur took this moment to pass his muzzle over red woman's shoulder.
her time had not come yet. and he expected her to choose tall man. but blood eyes was also dominant. augur anticipated a fight.
ultimately it would be the alpha female's choice. he wanted to be beneath her consideration, though augur was not sure he would fight the leading males.
he committed the sounds she made to his own voice, copying the syllables in his low rumble.
augur followed, pausing once to sniff at the burnt ground.
a fire,
she explains as he touches his nose to scorched earth, bringing to mind what Ashlar had told her, when they'd first discovered this place. hh— dheh'royed every'hing. burn'dh ih' all.
how it must have looked, then!
and would it happen again?
Avicus hasn't ever been partial to one land or another, but this surely was the territory closest to her heart. moving here and there had never bothered her, but having to leave the Rise would be a blow akin to something physical.
she lifts her muzzle, scenting, as if testing the air for tendrils of smoke.
a fire.
he did know this word and his hackles bristled momentarily in response. he too sniffed the air and then lowered his muzzle to scrape at the burned ground.
when the yellow flower came and went, grass could be found in its wake. not so here. but his scratching disturbed a centipede, which crawled out of the cold earth and away from the wolves.
augur pounced playfully at it.
she sees his hackles raise, and feels her own fur rise upon her spine.
and then, the mood lightens. she's grateful for it. dipping low, she sidles close and then snatches the long, wriggling thing from his paws, dangling it playfully before his muzzle.
Lady, Tramp, and their spaghetti—or, at least, the scene in another world.
her whiskers twitch at the feeling of those tiny legs churning, battering against her lips, but she is loath to bite down. she likes the squirming.
red woman darted forward.
augur was delighted. he mouthed for the invertebrate, missing twice on purpose.
he turned in a quick circle to amuse her and then truly grabbed for the unfortunate body, which might very well be ripped in twain now.
but he did not care. he enjoyed seeing red woman romp with him.
it does, indeed, separate into two.
a brief spray of insect guts against her muzzle, and then she's running after him, gleefully incensed at his theft. she's faster than the burly white wolf, and begins to catch him up quickly.
still, she does not loosen her hold on the centipede half she still possesses, and perhaps that will be her downfall.
no teeth bared toward him. no nips. just chase.
her throat vibrates with a croon, urging him to cease his flight and come back to her.
augur ran as flatout as he might but red woman had more swiftness than him.
his tongue lolled against the rush of wind. the bitter richness of the torn creature rested upon his tongue.
at her gentler sound the hunter arced back, a dog checked by the voice of its handler.
he fell in speed until he was at the side of red woman once more. augur reached to mouth her shoulder, panting.
gonna wrap this bc i'm terribly slow and it's old <3
lightness has touched her heart at the play.
they run together, the smell of the centipede acrid in her nostrils. she feels his touch to her shoulder and bumps into him, softly enough to not knock them both askew.
they run until they tire, in quiet understanding.
Raven Hollow and its old bones left behind; a sacred place, no doubt, but one she does not want to linger upon just now.