Redtail Rise the fortunes of the world

forward dated a few days to the 25th; tags for reference <3

there is a chill that thursday evening feels only when he moves away from the warmth of @Sunday Morning's flank. but having adjusted to being able to see — with his vision improving what felt like each day — and hear he was decidely less grumpy about it. slowly, he's begun to see it all as an adventure. every day brought something new to thursday evening's life and he was eager.

it is that desire that draws him towards the mouth of the den; lured like a moth to flame. he does not venture outside of the birthing den's swadling safety ( not yet ) but instead peers 'round at what he's able to see.

augur was there, snorting air over his plucky son. the clawan looked forward to the time that his son and daughter would join himself and new snow on their first hunt.

both of them had opened their eyes, and so he had brought a bright thing: cardinal feathers this time, instead of the fox-skull he had once carried.

he lay these before the boy and relaxed to his belly, watchful.

Now that she understood the purpose of a stockpile, Masquerade took it upon herself to identify all the caches belonging to the rise. As always, she tried to move as surreptitiously as she could, not just for the sport of it but also because she enjoyed the solitary nature of this endeavor and didn’t want to be bothered to socialize.

She rummaged around in a particularly fresh store of small game, wondering what made it so special that it should be so plentiful. Masquerade backpedaled away from the stash of meat without taking any, tipping her carmine snout into the air to sniff, then following her nose toward a nearby den.

She recognized the parents’ scents but halted, every instinct telling her to tread carefully here, or maybe not at all. Crouching now, Masquerade made to retreat when she caught sight of the blue eyes peering out from the den’s threshold.

Sucking in a breath, she rapidly crabwalked toward some cover, just in time to hide from the approach of Augur. He carried something bright red in his mouth, catching Masque’s eye as she hunkered down in the underbrush.

Just ‘cause she’s trying to hide doesn’t mean she can’t be spotted!

Can be a cameo!

Every day was a joy with her young ones. There was not one moment of this that had become monotonous. They two were always discovering some new thing, and it invoked in her the same eagerness and excitement they did to learn it again with them as she instructed what she could. Sunday Morning could tell there was much they did not understand even from what she would show to them, but their eyes seemed to light up each time and that was enough for her to continue.

The outside world seemed to fascinate them. Sunday might let them explore it further in knowing who guarded them but for the fact that they shook like leaves when autumn brought its fiercer winds. Like her mate, Sunday Morning was becoming downy. She could see their fur had grown much... but they relied upon her still for heat, she recognized.

As her son shifted, so too did Sunday to make herself accessible. She trusted Mountain Boulder to protect from the outside as she trusted him to provide. It was her eyes that grew bright to see what he had brought from within. Seeing him as a father warmed her, and endeared her to her man further. Sunday Morning exhaled a warm breath upon her son, and rumbled a crooning note of hello to Mountain Boulder.

By the day, her trust in him grew. Only he was allowed this close as of late. From within, she had not detected the watcher beyond.

the warm snort of air over him from his father is comforting but does not hold thursday evening's attention. cannot; for it pales considerably next to the bright red cardinal feathers augur has brought with him. the brilliant pigment of the plummage grasps and holds thursday evening's determinedly undivided attention. he makes a small yipping noise; rearing up on his hind paws in an attempt to capture the feathers, baby teeth snapping 'round thin air, captivated even as his mother stirrs.

with his limited attention span, their spectator(s) go unnoticed.

augur's senses were sharper near the den.

he became aware of a presence that did not belong to new snow or his children. and though the scent did not come to him, nor a name, the hunter turned away from his son to growl a warning note toward anyone who had strayed too close.

the rise was one.

it did not mean yet that the young cubs were ready to join the rest of the pack. and augur would enforce this so long as new snow commanded it to be.

he returned to the feathers. he rumbled to the boy.

From her hiding spot in the brush, she could hear movements within the den, including a small yipping noise that made her ears pull back, then stand perfectly upright on her head. Masquerade raised it without thinking, driven by utter curiosity, though she promptly shrank when Augur pivoted and growled in her direction.

Perhaps she should’ve taken that as her cue to flee, though Masque could not bring herself to move just yet. She pressed herself as flat as she could, heart pounding against the forest floor as she tried to stay as still as possible. Her eyes remained riveted on what she could see of the den and its inhabitants through the underbrush. She held her breath, wondering if Augur had actually spotted her and might drive her away.

If he hadn’t and didn’t, Masque intended to remain watchful and wait for the perfect moment to sneak away without further detection.

New Snow was a first time mother. When Mountain Boulder seemed to sense something, she changed from the soft, sweet thing that in her heart she was. The time for playing must pause. Sunday Morning, protective, would not risk potential danger lurking nearby.

She shifted forward to become a bodily shield. Gently, she coaxed their son into the den. Once they were sure there was no threat, she would retrieve him again. The feathers went with him.

Tense, and ill at ease to think something might lurk, she rumbled her own warning. Her ears pricked atop her head as she spoke toward Mountain Boulder in another series of disgruntled grumbles to take a look around them. While he did, the new mother would stay in front of the mouth of the den. If he thought something was amiss, she would not question it.

New Snow trusted his senses, as he was hunter, and missed precious little. Her own eyes flit on and around the underbrush (not yet landing upon where Masquerade lurked), seeking a disturbance within them. If there was a threat, New Snow and Mountain Boulder would answer it in the way of their kind if need be.

With their teeth.

distracted by the crimson feathers that had taken thursday evening's attention; ensared and bewitched him ( quite easily! ) he is almost ( almost ) oblivious to the going-on's around him. augur turning away to address their little spy goes unnoticed as he chews and bats around the feathers, delighted by the way each little puff of his breath ruffles — and on bigger puffs lifts it off the den floor with a small stirring of dirt.

it is only when new snow coaxed him back towards the darkness — feathers gathered in his mouth — did he notice something was amiss.

but his attention was fleeting and he went back to amusing himself with his feathers.

he still felt the eyes nearby but decided they were not a threat. the rise was filled with pups and no adult would be so foolhardy as to come close in such a way.

augur turned back to the son that new snow had borne and then swept into the den. she was careful. he thought much of her for it.

if the boy emerged again he would move to gently paw with a soft whuff, encouraging the child closer.

She scarcely breathed while she waited to see what Augur might do. Masque didn’t think he would harm her, yet the threat of his wrath made her very ill at ease. Her anxiety spiked, knowing that this was a critical test of her skills. If she just managed to get away without being caught, then nobody would punish her.

When the new father returned his attention to the whelping den and its inhabitants, Masque waited as long as she could before very carefully creeping to face the other direction. Her heart thumped in her chest as she cautioned herself not to make a run for it. She must proceed with the same careful, furtive movements or…

Masquerade thought she heard something behind her and her imagination promptly procured a furious Augur and his snapping teeth. The Bearn managed to avoid darting noisily through the underbrush, instead pressing herself to the forest floor. But she couldn’t swallow the yelp of surprise that escaped her.

It turned out Augur wasn’t there, though the cry had been a dead giveaway. Noting her “fatal” error, Masquerade instinctively accepted the foil, revealing herself. She didn’t look up, eyes trained squarely on the ground even as she crouched, tail tucked between her legs and head bowed in utter apology and submission.

It seemed Mountain Boulder thought all was well. New Snow was quick to think the same, and Thursday Evening also seemed nonplussed. These things were a balm to her spirit. She drew alongside her mate and had been about to croon to their son when there was a sound that caused her to whip her head to look behind them. It was a young cry, and New Snow snorted softly to dispel the ferocity that had been written across her face in a snarl.

Her visage was at once placid. The storm that might have been her savagery was quick to pass, gone before it could be considered a threat. New Snow turned to dart toward the sorry looking girl, recognizing her at once despite the girls own growth.

She lowered into a crouch, quietly stepping forward, eyes bright, toward Bloodspot. New Snow was pleased to see she had learned, though snorted in a show of playful vexation while she moved to stand tall once more that it had been used against her. No anger, though. This was a young, learning girl. Not a threat that had come to eat their cubs, she did not think.

New Snow darted toward the whelping den. There was no invitation from her for the girl to follow. Until her own cubs were brought to the rendezvous, she would not permit playtime; they were small, breakable things. She would let Bloodspot look, though, thinking no harm in that. And should any come, she and Mountain Boulder both were there to intervene.

Like her young, and the young of Avicus, New Snow was also living and learning.

new snow was calmer than augur would have been.

his eyes were hard. he gave a sharp chuff. the girl was not welcome.

yet he would allow her close, for she had submitted and offered no threat. the hunter rolled to his belly in quiet watchfulness. she must learn the ways of a densite with young children.

next time there would be little leniency.

Neither parent rebuked her, though Masquerade could practically taste the tension in the air. Nobody was comfortable with her being here, especially Masque herself. She continued making herself as small as possible, flinching a little at the harsh sound Augur made.

When the she-wolf ranged back to the den and her mate settled on his belly, Masquerade took that as her cue. She shot them one last apologetic look and then quickly made herself scarce, without even a final glance toward the precious contents of the whelping den.