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+--- Thread: Redtail Rise the second coming (/showthread.php?tid=66831)
the second coming - Red Dusk - December 31, 2025
tagging @Moon Runner for visibility for formation thread (and free to join), AW
red dusk walks the border at first light.the rise falls away beneath him in quiet slopes and old paths, firescarred trunks giving way to new green. scent lines mark where the land ends and the world presses back. he reads them all. stranger. prey. wind.
the wealda’s presence settles heavy in his chest, not as worry, but as purpose. this ground must hold. she must be kept from harm. the rise cannot afford fracture again.
he stops often, nose lifting, ears tipping to the far edges where the taiga waits. nothing moves that should not. still, he watches.
red dusk presses his pads into the soil and moves on, sealing the border with scent and memory.
RE: the second coming - Sivaak - December 31, 2025
her scent is first visible on the wind before she is. crimson-coated white-pelted woman lingering at the edges of the rise, her nose inhaling deep breaths of the gathering scent of wolves.
a throaty rumble from her as she acknowledges the presence of them. sivaak walks the border until she grows brave enough to cross, hackles prickling and tail flagging with a dominance that is natural of her.
she desired a battle. what better way to provoke one than to trespass on a culturing territory?
the muradoii bitch trails just a few feet across the border line, walking the length of it. until a ruddy male appears in the distance and she bellows to him, wafting her tail and her strong scent.
RE: the second coming - Moon Runner - January 01, 2026
Oh snap!
A glimmer of alpenglow brightened the sky behind Frostfire Ridge.
Moon Runner walked in the agouti wolf’s path and followed his large pawprints through the drifts of snow. It took her to the borders beyond the Flats, where he was surely on patrol.
Like Dark Spine, his presence centered her. A faithful comrade with a wild soul.
Her spirit thought of Ice Melt. Of Faraway Shadow.
Would he court her with the melting snow? Would they, together, bring new life to the Rise?
The image in her spirit’s mind was abruptly ended when a powerful scent met Moon Runner’s nose. Another mature female.
Her lope hastened. There, just ahead, was her pack mate… and in the distance was a white wolf stained with red.
Unlike the Storm Cloud wolf... she wasn’t a loner persueing prey. The stiffness of her gait and upright posture were a flagrant, dominant signs. She marched accross the border with purpose.
Moon Runner could feel the hair along her back lift from neck-to-tail. She could sense one of life’s threshholds lay before her… and she must walk across it.
Wealda! her spirit chanted. Wealda!
Moon Runner’s white tail waved stiffly.
Everything is at stake! the spirit exclaimed. You must protect it!
Moon Runner’s lips curled into a snarl as she brushed against the agouti male.
A bellowing snarl. Leave! her spirit demanded.
RE: the second coming - Nowke - January 01, 2026
coming to bully my own toon because i enjoy the concept that DS, MR and RD are like the three musketeers at the moment :p LOL!
nowkē is shed in the fragmenting colors of soft red when dusk arrives.
it is not uncommon to find him patrolling the rise. he is a young busy body, devoting his time to walking and running the many newborn desire paths he has began to carve for himself.
his trek through snow ends abruptly when he senses a stir. pale guard hairs at his withers rising upwards like donning venomous quills, the yearling both figuratively and literally smells trouble.
it is followed by the scent of red dusk and wealda.
he arrives only moments after moon runner does, ears perked to catch the sound of her vicious snarl in the coming distance. the way the young guardian flags his tail upwards and curls his lips back in a snarl is immediate.
squaring himself upon a jutting ledge of rock surface only a few feet behind the intruder.
RE: the second coming - Red Dusk - January 01, 2026
red dusk moves before the thought is finished.
the foreign scent hits sharp and heavy on the wind and his body answers it without pause. he steps in close to white feather’s side, shoulder set firm beside hers, rusted bulk a wall of muscle and intent. his tail lifts high, stiff and unmistakable.
claimed.
the intruding female crosses the line and his lips pull back just enough to show the truth of him. not rage. certainty. the ptarmigan feathers at his nape bristle as his chest expands and a low call rolls out of him, carried deep and wide across the border.
this land is not yours.
he does not leave white feather’s flank. his eyes never leave the crimson and white form testing the edge of the rise. dark spine’s presence settles behind them, dark spine’s snarl sharp at their backs, and the shape of the pack closes clean and solid.
red dusk plants his paws into the snow and burn-scarred earth alike.
one more step, and the rise will answer.