Redtail Rise the gods give

the atmosphere of the rise was thick with the coming war.

this call to arms was felt in the very marrow of bobcat's bones. yet, he is met with his internal frustration that he is too young. too young to be anything but a liability in battle.

a dragonling not yet a dragon.

all the same, eagerness and instinct urge him to hone natural skill. he 'trains' with a fallen tree trunk, soft from woodrot. it crumbles beneath the force of his bite, still too soft with cubhood. lethal enough to kill small prey: mice and squirrel, maybe rabbit but nothing larger.

not yet.

still, he imagines the rotting tree trunk as the bleeding injured phantom that escaped the rise's bared teeth.

To this day, Masque still slept beneath the evergreen at the edge of the rendezvous site most of the time. They headed there now, worn out from the training thrown into their other duties. A dead hare dangled from their jaws, a cold meal plucked from a cache to enjoy after a hard day’s work and before a well-earned nap.

They paused at the edge of the clearing when they caught sight of young Bobcat dueling with a rotten trunk. Masque maintained their clutch on the prey as they observed his movements. Their tail raised a little and flicked approvingly before Masque padded closer to the pack’s single remaining Bearn.

When you’re finished, would you like to share this with me? they asked after setting the rabbit at their feet and taking a seat. Nodding toward the stump, they acknowledged, You are fierce. You need to eat as much as you can to stay strong. We all do.

just a cameo! Masque can notice her (or not!) 

New Snow watched her son approvingly. While she had a mind to join him she did not, blended into the snowy earth. She was not so easy to spot, but her son would know she was there and resting for a time. A blanket of fresh snow had fallen and insulated her, and this creature comfort was not one she wanted to depart from quite yet. Rest was an important part of training. And she was happy to teach. 

Bloodspot came. The words spoken were not ones she understood. But, she could recognize tone and tenor. She was able to know from these things that nothing was amiss. 

New Snow closed her eyes, listening only passively in the event that this changed.

the approaching footfalls do not go unheard by bobcat but he does not offer his attention: at least not right away. another chunk of soft rotwood is spit out as masquerade speaks, breaking the silence. this is when he turns to her, golden gaze flickering from her face to the rabbit at her paws and then back again.

despite himself, his belly rumbles softly; a detail that he hadn't been aware of until the smell of the rabbit and blood waifed his way.

a low noise is given: yes, it says.

he abandons his rotting trunk spar partner and moves towards the masked cub. the praise lingers like a pet between his ears, shivering along his spine. he is fierce. but too young yet. too small yet. too clumsy yet.

why he couldn't spring from his mother a fully grown dragon, as athena sprung from zeus' skull, was a question he had no answer to yet.

a small cant of his head is given, a look shared between the older cub and then to the stump, the question lingering in his golden gaze: spar?

His head tilted as he seemingly mulled his decision. Masque’s lips twitched, though they waited patiently until Bobcat gave them a look. He didn’t have to say a single word for them to understand.

We can practice after we eat, they replied, pushing the carcass toward him slowly. I don’t know about you but I’m pretty tired from all the extra training. I need a nap soon, though the food will give me enough strength for one fight, Masque explained with a wink.

Without waiting for any further acknowledgement, they swept back into all fours for better leverage, pinning the dead hare with one forepaw and putting their teeth to its cold flesh. Soon Masque laid it open, blood and viscera oozing slowly. The Toweard raised their head, motioning for Bobcat to help himself.

perhaps too easily — though easily brushed away as a product of his young age — bobcat is avoidant of what he should be doing — eating and keeping up is strength, as masquerade told him — and charging right into training. right into play.

priorities are easily skewed.

slowly, he was learning. studying.

so, he studies masquerade, studies her as she takes a bite of the meal she brings.

as usual, bobcat is quiet; adopting the silent, nonverbal manner of communication of his parents. at her invitation he bounds forward, taking a small chunk of meat for himself before retreating back a few steps to give them both some space to eat.

The Bearn moved in to grab a morsel, then retreated. Masquerade bobbed their head approvingly before sticking their ruddy snout into the entrails and pulling out one of the organs. They were rich in nutrients, Masque knew, and though the meat was a bit stodgy from storage, they still enjoyed the burst of juices on their tongue.

After a time, both young wolves had taken their fill. Masque kicked some soil over the rinds to hide the scent somewhat, then faced Bobcat. His legs were long and slim, though he still stood shorter than Masque. His over-sized paws would probably prove less than nimble in a fight, though they imagined he could do some damage with a properly executed swing of his paw.

After a quick assessment, Masque took up a position about two yards from Bocat, flexing their paws to grip the earth. They braced their legs and rolled their shoulders, anterior dipping forward ever so slightly. It wasn’t quite a playful bow, though the position was certainly an invitation.

Whenever you are ready, they instructed with a simultaneous twitch of their lips and tail, attack.

he remembers, before sister disappeared, that he would play fight with her. it was always clumsy: unpracticed. in truth, it was still such. but bobcat follows masquerade's lead taking a moment to let his golden gaze trace over her: trying to pinpoint where he might struggle and she might excel. he would let instinct be his guide here, as he does in all things.

attack.

bobcat rushes forward aiming to snap at her left shoulder; broadcasting his intention without realizing it.

They could read his intentions like a book. Masquerade dipped down a bit more and then pressed upward to meet Bobcat’s attack, allowing him to strike their shoulder but shoving him backward in the process. They then leaped backward without bothering to counter the attack, letting Bobcat focus on offense over defense for the moment.

I could tell exactly what you planned to do. Try not to make your move so obvious, they advised. And remember, your teeth are your primary weapon but you also have claws. You have big paws and long legs, which means you can probably pack a decent punch.

After saying their piece, Masquerade dipped again. They waved their tail in a way that would’ve been playfully inviting in other circumstances. They flexed their paws, face serious, waiting to see if Bobcat would take any of their advice.

his strike hits but he is shoved back and masquerade is quick to leap out of the way. claws dig into the dirt, chest rising and falling as he is filled with the burn to rush forth again. it is only the words that stop him; that temper this instinct.

he'd given away his attack. it reminds him of hunting with father.

how he'd done the same thing with the mice.

bobcat's shoulders steel as he considers masq's many words. masq takes defensive, letting him be offensive.

this time, bobcat is thoughtful of his move. he takes his time. he dives straight at her, only veering off at last second towards her right leg.

Bobcat breathed heavily as he squared his shoulders. Masque saw the look in his eye and knew he was taking their words to heart. They flicked their tail again, enticing him, and the Bearn barreled toward the Toweard a second time.

At the last second, Bobcat veered and tagged their right foreleg. Masque let out a yelp in the hopes it would build his confidence. They then pushed at him slightly and leaped clear again, standing up straight, bright eyes speculative above their ruddy snout.

Well done, they praised. Now, I’m going to stand here and I want you to come at me swinging. Don’t worry about broadcasting your intentions. This is more about brute force over surprise. I want to see how hard you can hit, Masquerade explained, getting into position. Don’t hold back. Come at me with everything you’ve got.

his feign lands. he tries to shutter his surprise in the aftermath — as she shoulders him away but it makes it way across his face all the same. still, he is pleased with her yelp and takes a few steps back himself as she does. her praise nutures his pride and his tail gives a pleased wag. and then comes the challenge. to swing one of his too-big for his body paws at her.

to not hold back.

bobcat blinks for a moment, hesitant not because he is confident he can hurt her ( perhaps unaware of his own strength ) but because masque is a packmate.

eager to not disappoint he readies himself before launching at her, paw rising to smack her on the muzzle as if she were a small woodland critter and he were the feline batting it around.

all i can picture is my cats when they slap each other, lmao

He launched again, his forelegs flailing at Masque’s snout. They were barely able to suppress the impulse to flinch out of reach, though it didn’t matter much. His blows smarted a little, yet there was not much force behind them. They were far too tentative, presumably because he didn’t want to hurt them.

I get it, they said, moving out of range, you don’t want to hurt me. That’s fine. Getting injured is always something we want to avoid, especially at a time like this. But promise me that if you ever engage with an enemy, you put all the force you can possibly muster into your attack, okay?

They pondered another drill they could do when they felt weariness wash over them. Their jaws parted on a magnificent yawn, which was cut short by a sudden tickle in their throat. Masquerade’s mouth snapped shut as they coughed lightly once, twice, and then the urge passed.

I think it’s time for me to go lie down. If you want more training, you should call on my brother, @Relic or my sister, @Redd, Masque said, offering Bobcat an approving nudge before moving off to rest.