idleness didn't suit Avicus. it never had. it wasn't enough that she had four boisterous pups to look after, nor that Ashlar and his proteges were tending to her injury.
she had everything she could ever want—and yet, still she wanted.
today, the red woman decides enough is enough. this spring marked the start of her fourth year of life; she's grown from impetuous child to (slightly less impetuous) leader.
she rises from her spot beneath the evergreen boughs at the rendezvous and shakes out her ruddy coat, wincing slightly at the stiffness of her joints, particularly the leg she'd been nursing for a moon.
movement, kinesis; a purpose.
slowly, she begins to prowl the perimeter, watching her children play at a short distance, ears swiveling to catch other scents and sounds on the wind,
and then tips her muzzle back and howls, announcing to the Rise that Wealda is back in action.
The Wealda's call disturbs him from his play. There is something different about her today. The restlessness had emanated from her until finally she could take it no longer. Now, she'd announced her return.
Since the birth of he and his siblings, they had not gotten the chance to see their mother fully back in action. He feels compelled to shadow as she attends to her duties.
Mama,
He murmurs as he approaches. The boy stops beside her, staring up at her with muddy eyes that have begun the journey from blue to orange.
one of the twins approaches, and she turns with a small smile, brushing her muzzle across the top of his head in greeting. Mulherin,
she greets, voice just a whisper. that's one of the names they'd settled on in these recent times, and it suits him.
she pulls back and gives her son a once-over. earthy toned and lithe, he resembles Ashlar quite a bit. but Merrick, too, and so his parentage will perhaps always be in doubt.
well. father, at least.
he will always know his mother.
you've grown,
she remarks, lifting her chin. walk wi' me?
His mother's observation filled him with a sense of pride. As she studied him, he studied her.
Particularly, her leg. He knew little about mortality, medicine or health, but he'd known there was something terribly wrong with her leg before. Now she seemed fine, at least improved—though he was a very poor judge in that aspect. He'd buy anything told to him.
In the end, all he wanted was to spend more time with just her. He jumped at the chance to join.
Where we goin'?
He asks, nodding.
the boy is more than happy to tag along, and she smiles faintly. our borderhh',
she replies, swiveling her head and nodding toward the outskirts of the territory. they'd start with the cliff-lined boundary nearby, then work their way eastward—toward the more permeable part of the Rise.
or for however long Mulherin could keep up. either works for her.
needha make 'hhure our pack ihh' 'hhafe,
Avicus explains, beginning to stride forward, confident but slow enough that his still-childish legs can follow. keep enemiehh' ouhh'.
the air is warm and buzzing with the sound of insects and birds, the great bounty of early summer. Mulherin isn't the only youngster around here; larvae and fledglings, tadpoles and cubs—they all are growing up alongside him.
except, among them, only Mulherin and his siblings rule this land.
His tail wagged with enthusiasm. Enemiehh?
He repeated, confused by the word.
The Bearn walked step in step with his mother. Moreso, his shorter steps quickening a tad to match hers.
The day is early. He is ready to listen, and explore.