Redtail Rise all you want is one more saturday

New Snow’s daughters feast upon a piece of animal their Caru had brought them. Like piranas, they greedily strip away whatever is left: neither cartilage of sinew is wasted. Only when Saturday’s Sunset belly has become round enough to burst does their appetite wane.

Now more playful than hungry, Saturday’s Sunset picks up a long piece of bone and skin and drags it towards @Masquerade. Feeling courageous, with a desire to prove her mettle, the juvenile gives her sitter a playful growl.

Take it from me, if you dare! the spirit challenges.

This had been a particularly bloody hunt. While the Saturdays enjoyed the spoils, Masquerade retreated to a patch of yellowed grass and began to groom the sticky red patches from their fur. While they bathed, gnats and flies began to orbit around them until there was a veritable swarm.

For some undignified reason, they were attracted to the Caru’s hindquarters, constantly buzzing beneath Masque’s tail. The yearling set down the hind leg raised in the air and sat upright, planting their rear end in the grass and scooting it a little to alleviate the inevitable itch.

That was when Sunset came over with some scraps, trying to get the Caru to engage. Masque shook their head, flinching and yipping when a horsefly descended on their shoulder and bit them. They scrambled to all fours, tail now slinging between their hind legs.

Let’s find some water and go for a swim instead, they said to the pup, pushing at her shoulder before trotting toward the nearest water source.

Saturday’s Sunset shook the scraps violently to and fro in an attempt to entice the Caru, who was preoccupied by nasty horseflies. They stood up abruptly and directed the pup away from the bloodbath and the biting insects.

She does not dare! the spirit crowed triumphantly. The pale child followed Masquerade with her head held high, mouth still full of scraps.

However, despite the Caru’s disinterest in a game of tug-o-war, the young girl’s playful spirit was not extinguished. As she followed her sitter, Saturday's Sunset eyed the Caru’s silver tail tuft. Suddenly, the instinct to chase and bite overcame the girl and she reached out to grab and pull upon her guardian’s tail like it was a rabbit skin. What fun!

In order to walk more quickly, they untucked their tail. No sooner had Masque released it than something nipped at it. They flinched, pulling it back between their hind legs and looking backward. Ah, it was only Sunset!

You’re as pesky as a fly, they teased the youngster, giving her a playful leer before suddenly darting toward the stream that had just come into view.

They dashed straight into the water and let their legs buckle so that it came up to their shoulders, then their neck. Masquerade hissed at the cold, though it was also a relief from both the hot day and the pests.

As soon as they gauged Sunset was in the splash zone, Masque swept their foreleg to send a wave of water the pup’s way with a cry of, Payback time!

Saturday’s Sunset quickly stepped back as if to avoid any retaliation that might come her way. An impish yip further harassed her babysitter. But then, they took off!

Game on!

She chased Blood Spot down to the water. Her open jaws frame a smile and her tongue lazily hung out the side – a happy expression followed by a play bow at the water’s edge. Sassily, she barked and yapped when the Caru escaped into the deep end. Sunset paced, her skinny tail curled over her back, wanting to follow but not knowing how.

Then, revenge!

Saturday’s Sunset becomes the recipient of a cold spray of water.

Ahhh! the spirit hollered with a giggle.

Sunset, determined to catch Masquerade, took a flying leap into the stream, belly-flopped, and then went under. Quickly, she resurfaced as bubbles of snot sprayed out of her nose.

The smile slipped off their face the instant the puppy disappeared underwater. Masquerade instantly planted their feet on the slick riverbed and lunged toward Sunset, fully prepared to grab onto her scruff and haul her out of the water. But she surfaced on her own, spraying the Caru with a stream of water.

Kick your legs, like you’re running, Masque instructed, blinking water out of their eyes as they pressed closer to the pup, using their body to buoy her. All four, they clarified. Keep your head up so your nose stays out of the water. You’ve got this, Sunset.

The girl floundered for a few moments, but there was no unnecessary panic. New information flooded her brain – the cold feeling all over, the viscosity of water, and how one hard paw stroke would create splashes. Like a rudder, Saturday’s Sunset tail whipped around the stream’s surface in an attempt to stabilize or counterbalance her body. Her paws moved out of time in a disorderly way.

This spirit only laughed at the child’s uneducated swimming style. Listen to our Caru! it urged.

Determined, Saturday’s Sunset did her best to do as told. She tilted her rose back and moved her paws as if she was running. However, she lost her balance and tipped to the side. Again, she surfaced with a soaked head. But she did not give up!

Hearing Masquerade’s encouragement, she tried again. A few strokes – and she began to move forward towards her guardian!

Sunset struggled to establish a rhythm that would keep her afloat. Masquerade kept a close eye on the situation, prepared to scruff the child and drag her to dry land if it proved necessary. In the end, however, Sunset discovered the motions that would allow her to swim through the water.

There you go, the Caru acknowledged. I didn’t realize the water was so deep. But swimming is a good life skill. It can be a fun hobby too, especially on hot summer days like this one, they continued, settling back in the water again.

They took a couple moments to swipe their tongue over the bloodstained body parts they could reach, though their golden eyes remained fixed on the youngster between passes of their tongue. Masque even had to nibble at a few particularly sticky patches to break up the dried blood and untangle their fur.

Sitting up a little, Masque thought of something important and said, There’s a very important rule I should mention about swimming. You never, ever do it by yourself. Do you understand, Sunset?

One-two-one-two....

Saturday’s Sunset’s tempo became rhythmic as she motored around the shallow stream. She felt how the water moved around her body, how she floated if she let her chest act as a keel. Teacher gave a word of encouragement to which the girl responded with a snort of water.

We got this! the spirit cheered.

After swimming in a little circle, Saturday’s Sunset found a rocky sandbar in the middle of the stream where it was shallow enough to walk. She was breathing hard, but a small grin could be spied.

The Caru gave a stern warning. The pup licked her nose and ducked her head.

We understand, the spirit acknowledged. Dangerous.

Suddenly, something in the water caught Sunset’s eye. A brook trout ate a bug off the water’s surface.

The girl dipped her head, which Masquerade took as acknowledgement. They felt a small pang of dismay, wondering if the Saturdays would take after their parents and never vocalize. The Caru yearned for more pack mates who could communicate with words.

They tucked that thought aside and paddled over to join Sunset on the little spit of rocky sand. They stood there a moment, dripping, then Masque gave in to the irresistible impulse to shake the water from their pelt. The warm summer air felt much more pleasant with damp fur.

Masque glanced at Sunrise, who seemed preoccupied with something in the nearby shallows. Their goldenrod eyes flicked to a shadow moving beneath the surface: a fish.

They’re very difficult to catch, they observed aloud, but sometimes it’s fun to try.

Difficult…

A small whine eeked out from New Snow’s daughter.

I want it! the spirit demanded.

But if a fish was anything like a frog, then the girl understood just how hard it would be to catch.

She licked her chops and began to pace along the shore methodically. Then, she nipped at the Caru’s ruff like a child pulling on her mother’s skirt.

Don’t look at me, they said in a lightly teasing voice when Sunset tugged at their fur, it’s up to you. Personally, I much prefer venison…

They turned to peer at the nearest bank, gauging the breadth of the stream. They wouldn’t mind getting wet again, though Masquerade guessed they could clear that leap. They bunched their haunches and sprang, their hind feet just barely splashing into the water as they trotted onto the shore.

The Caru immediately turned to keep an eye on Sunset. Masque reclined, though they prepared to interfere should she tumble into the water or otherwise require their help.

There would be no silver spoon today! Like a deer, Sunset’s guardian jumped across the water back to shore and reclined. The pale girl licked her chops in thought, wanting to follow but also wanting to hunt the fish.

With the determination of a stubborn child, Saturday’s Sunset slipped back into the cold stream and began to paddle. She faltered at first, but quickly found her rhythm once again.

A splash nearby - a fish! Her ears perked up as she hustled with even more gusto.

Here fishy fishy, the spirit sang.

Saturday’s Sunset bit at the water where she had last spied the trout. Nuthin’! She swam in a small circle and chomped again. Missed it! It must have been an amusing sight, to any onlooker, to watch the pup miss by incredibly large margins as the trout artfully evaded any contact with a quick flick of their tails.

With one last burst of energy, the girl bit at the water and caught something between her teeth.

Yes! the spirit cheered.

A snort of success burst from her nose as she struggled to swim with her cumbersome prey. Eventually, she managed to drag it back onto shore to reveal her prize: a very large stick covered in riverweed.

While Sunset fished, Masquerade smoothed their tongue over the last bits of sticky red residue on their chest and forelegs. Hopefully that would discourage the flies from returning in full force. They still kept an eye on the pup, trying hard not to smile at her fruitless attempts at capturing a fish.

She did fish out something, though, and the Caru sat up to investigate the catch. It was only a wet stick with reeds tangled around it. Masque chuffed to the child, remembering her bid to play earlier. Their long tail thumped the ground as they reached to grab for one end of the stick and give it a playful tug.

Last from me! Thanks for a fun thread!

Blood Spot snatched one end of Saturday’s Sunset’s prize catch, but she would not take it so easily! The pale girl dug her heels into the ground and dropped her weight back. With a shake of her head and a fierce growl, Sunset attempted to win tug-of-war! All the while, her tail wags - so happy to be playing this game.

However, with all the activity the child’s energy would soon wane. She would certainly sleep well tonight!