Larksong Grotto untitled tapes

They’d been back a week. Masquerade didn’t want to infringe on the Redtails, though she plucked a dead rabbit out of a cache near the base of the peak and began carrying it toward Larksong Grotto. The reason she didn’t continue past that wasn’t because of her hesitation to encroach on her family’s territory, it was due to the cramp so wretched, it physically stopped her in her tracks.

It wasn’t a sharp pain, like a tooth or claw slicing open her lower stomach, but it was intense. She gasped, the dead hare falling from her mouth. It felt almost as if someone had reached inside her, grabbed a fistful of internal organs, squeezed and began slowly pulling them out of her body by way of her nethers. Masque’s teeth clenched as the wave of pain crested, receded—a second, different sort of gasp—and then built again.

The surrounding territories were gaining in activity.  Wealda did not mind this, but found it more a reason to roam and keep an eye on movements.  The patterns of the herds would change, and perhaps more would be drawn to lay claims.  She only wished to keep informed, and Roamer was no longer here to be her eyes.

Wealda stopped upon seeing the wolf ahead of her, then relaxed when she noted that it was Masquerade.  Her sister seemed rigid, as she approached, and she recognized some semblance of the things she’d seen in New Snow.  Masquerade hadn’t needed to inform her of their impending family.  She’d seen it then and saw it even more apparently now.

Redd whined as she approached, unthreatening as she sought to inspect her sister with concern.  Instinct spoke that she should be within a claim or a den.  She roamed in her hunting alone; why?

She was incredibly fortunate it was her sister whose footsteps made her look up with a grimace. Masquerade was already in a vulnerable state, these awful cramps notwithstanding. But as a third one wrenched through the bowl of her pelvis, tearing loose a little cry of agony, she knew she was a sitting duck.

Her entire body curled when Redd came closer, her sister’s presence allowing her to submit completely to the pain for a moment. Her gold eyes sought Redd’s gaze, teeming with gratitude. I’m so happy you’re here, her expression said, even though Masque couldn’t speak through the grit of her teeth.

When the pain eased again, she panted out, Cramps. They’re no joke. But hopefully they were just a normal part of the pregnancy; she wasn’t sure. I was trying to bring this your way, she added, deep voice still a little thready as she nosed at the dropped rabbit.

She did not recall this kind of pain in the hunt mother, but Redd knew that there was much she had no knowledge of.  She huffed a small breath of reassurance, then settled beside her to keep watch until the pain had hopefully passed.  She was not Haelend but could at least provide company and security.

Shouldn’t be here,  she replied, her tone more a statement than a rebuke.  She could not tell Masquerade how to behave now that she was not of the Rise, but perhaps her thoughts would at least be heeded.  Their future deserved to be preserved and protected, held dear in the safety of their claim.  As the time drew nearer this would become more important.

She did not take the rabbit, disapproving even of this.  Her strength should be for her own future, not theirs.

Another cramp came, though it wasn’t as terrible as its predecessors. Still, Masquerade couldn’t speak for a moment. Instead, she tried to understand the meaning behind Redd’s words. Did she mean she was too close to the rise? Or did she mean she oughtn’t be out here in the open?

Deciding it was probably the latter, she replied, I don’t have a choice. I have to keep hunting until I can’t. Luckily, we’ve struck gold in the valley east of the peak. I can’t tell you how many rabbits we’ve been able to bring back to our cache.

For now, it was just the one stockpile, near to her old dugout. With only the two of them, they had to prioritize some things over others. Multiple caches, perhaps even a larger whelping den: these would come later. Their borders weren’t even particularly strong yet, though Masque did her best to optimize her increasingly frequent calls of nature.

She and Riley didn’t have the luxury of Fengtoth, which of course was their problem, not Redd’s. Her gaze swept over the side of her sister’s face as Masque finally found she could unfurl a little, sit up properly.

I also need to keep an eye out for recruits. Even just one hunter would make a huge difference, she admitted.

They were not far from her peak, but Redd still misliked it.  Despite knowing the strain it would put on her leadership, despite knowing the uncertainty it would put on Ulfhedinn’s family, she did not understand Masquerade’s insistence on a separate claim.  Just as she had not understood the lead hunter’s before.  They were stronger as one, and the Rise could have provided so that she need not worry.

She did not speak of this.  Masquerade had to know the truth of it, so Redd would continue to be in the dark as to why they chose as they did.

Keep them. Redd replied, nosing the rabbit.  They are yours.  The Rise had plenty of hunters and fewer pups this year.  She felt no spark of the season within her, even now with a mate.  The year had not been right for it, with all that had happened.  If insecurity had driven away her chance then perhaps this was for the best.  Nature would know when it was time for her to become a mother.

Recruit together.  Her eyes were worried as she looked at Masquerade, willing her sister to be cautious.  She pushed herself too hard, perhaps.  If she could not remain somewhere then she should at least ensure she was defended if anything happened.  The pack nearby seemed friendly, but who was to know if this was true?

The pack nearby.  Redd recalled this and held a thought, but would wait to share it.

Redd insisted Masquerade keep the rabbit. Especially in light of what she’d just said, she supposed it was sort of silly to be giving away food. Redtail Rise certainly didn’t need her handouts, even if it was more about the principle of it than anything else.

I know, she said, shrugging a little uneasily, I just want to keep putting things to rights, if that makes any kind of sense.

The next words out of her sister’s mouth earned a surprised glance. She appreciated the sentiment very much, though she didn’t want to ask anything of either Redd or the rise. There was a fine balance to be struck here, as she certainly wanted their moral support, without infringing on their resources.

If you come across any good candidates, feel free to send them my way, Masque said hesitantly, though only if you can spare them yourself. Otherwise, this is something I need to do, if I want to be a successful Alpha too.

She hoped the implication would go over well with Redd, though just in case there were any misgivings between them, she made a point to press her nose to her sister’s cheek. She thought of her recent conversation with Gavrel, wondering if he’d spilled the beans to the Wealda.

I would like to be allies. If that is something you want too, treat Dragonspine—that’s what we’ve decided to call it—like any other, Masque implored, expression contorting only a little at the latest wave of pain.

Masquerade misunderstood her, but Redd was quiet a moment rather than attempt to correct.  It would not harm the rise to offer the option of other homes, should a recruit wish for something else.  Just as it would not harm the rise if some of their own chose to join Masquerade.  It would harm them more to have some whose loyalties lay divided and who stayed out of duty alone.

They will decide where they go.  She replied, relenting.  If any came and did not wish to remain, she would provide the Peak as alternative.  Perhaps a smaller pack, with room to build and form, would be more attractive to those with ambition.

We are not yours.  They are.  Redd added, voice soft.  Her eyes were on Masque’s side, though after a moment she stood and looked to the west.

She still did not think it right for Masquerade to travel alone, but she did not press to correct the misunderstanding of earlier.  Riley would protect her as much as he was able, but perhaps they would need to take risks to follow the path they chose.

Her heart sank a little when Redd did not agree to an alliance. Perhaps she didn’t even believe in such things. Avicus had, though neither of them was quite like their mother, were they? Just as Masque wondered if her sister ever dealt with Sapphique, she noticed Redd looking westward. Shadewood lay in that direction, of course.

It’s harder than I thought, building something from scratch, she found herself saying, but it’s a challenge I want to take. I loved the rise—I still do—but I was meant for something else.

She glanced at the place where she’d been born, thinking of all the people and places she missed there. But Masquerade hadn’t forgotten what had driven her from them, what even now prevented her from rejoining them. It wasn’t just pride, though that was admittedly a factor.

That made her think of the new ranks Redd had mentioned. New Snow and Carrion would carry the torch passed to them by the likes of Ashlar and Masquerade herself. She was glad she’d left some small imprint on the place, though the fact remained: Masquerade’s entire schema differed from theirs in several fundamental ways.

Whether or not you want a formal alliance, Masque said, the pain hitting a level where she felt she could stand and walk again, I want you to know you’re all welcome at Dragonspine.

Her heart thumped anxiously in her chest as she bent to gather the rabbit in her mouth. Her eyes asked if Redd might accompany her at least partway to the borders, even as she effectively muzzled herself. Masque felt a little strange, pressing the issue, but she couldn’t resist; she wanted it so badly.

Redd’s ears twitched at Masquerade’s statement, and she did not argue against it.  Only her sister knew where her place was meant to be.

She did not fully understand what was meant by alliance.  In her mind all was already settled; their packs were friendly, and communication lay open.  Because of this, Wealda hesitated to agree, only because she did not wish to foster further misunderstanding.

If there is need, ask.  She replied instead, tilting her head slightly as if to confirm that this was the intent.  Then she turned as Masquerade stood and looked east instead, focusing on the place where she knew the river pack lay.  There is a pack there.  They have Haelend.  Healers.  To teach Carrion.  This too was an alliance, but only based on need.  She would expect nothing once the training was done, and would provide nothing once their agreement had been honored.  Not until there was need once more.

She brought it up too in case things worsened.  Perhaps the pair too could strike a deal and receive help from the healers.  She hoped it would not be necessary but did not have the knowledge to say.

This established, she moved to follow, accepting the silent invitation and ready to escort her back to the borders.  It was not far and her intent had been to scout the region regardless.

Masquerade could only nod her head in acknowledgement of Redd’s frank words. Still clutching the rabbit, she began the slow march back toward the peak. She kept her red face pointed at her sister, eyebrows arching over brightened eyes at this word of another pack, full of healers who might teach their younger sister.

She only looked away to glance where Redd had indicated. She wondered if they lived upon the glacier or perhaps one of the adjacent territories. She would clarify once she could speak again. They were all distant enough that she wasn’t particularly concerned, though once they were more established—probably after she whelped—Masquerade might try her hand at ambassadorship again.

Thanks for the intel, she said upon nearing the edge of Nova Peak Dragon’s Back Ridge Dragonspine. Where exactly do they live? I don’t mind having other packs nearby. There was no one out west. It sounds good in theory but it made everything all the more challenging. There was little hope of recruiting. The isolation made it dangerous for us, particularly when we both got hurt. We were lucky it was only minor.

She thought of the she-wolf she’d killed in self-defense. What would Redd think about that story? Perhaps she’d tell her, another day. It still made her heart skip a beat, knowing that day would always come. Look at them, reconvening only one week after her return.

Giving into a sudden sentiment of gladness, Masquerade made an affectionate rumbling noise and pushed her nose against her sister’s cheek. She then drew back just far enough to comb her teeth through the ruff lining Redd’s face, an entirely sisterly gesture.

I can’t tell you how good it is to be back. Things are different now, she stated the obvious, echoing herself, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

In fact, things felt more right than they had in a long time, at least for the gray Redtail.

At the base.  By the river.  It was a large formation, larger than either the rise or nova peak, but it would be hard to miss the pack if she only went east and followed the base.  She did not have more specific landmarks than this.

It was different.  Redd nuzzled her sister back, silently agreeing despite her own private feelings.  Masquerade had once provided something needed, but this was no longer the case.  She wondered if Masque felt this too, or if perhaps it had always been this way for her.  Maybe she and the rise had never provided this, and this was why she had found it better to leave than to stay.

She knew a few things that were wrong, but if things were right for Masquerade, then things could be right for her as well.  Perhaps this feeling of loss was more than them; it was the loss of the family she knew, the supports she had thought to have when the time came to raise her own children.  They would have no Avicus, no Masquerade, only her.  Then maybe the true reason there would be none for her this year was that she knew, in this moment, she was not enough.  Not yet.

Hunt lead and hunt wife would help, but it could not be the same.

I’m glad.  Redd replied, her gaze warm.  The words were genuine despite the tinge of melancholy that laced deep within.  She truly was.  She just wished Wealda were still here.

Me too, she said, truly meaning it.

She glanced at the nearby mountainside. Masquerade had quite literally chosen an uphill battle. Her eyes found the ledge. She could still picture Avicus seated there, her fur smoldering with setting sunlight. She swallowed, turning her eyes back to her sister. Redd had been there too, witness to Masque’s lifelong battle to carve out her niche among the Redtails.

The current Wealda likely had may things to do, yet Masque was reluctant to part ways with her sister. She couldn’t be sure how much time had passed but it felt like only a few minutes since those cramps had stopped her in her tracks. They still resonated now, though the pain was a great deal more manageable.

Will you tell me more about Gavrel? How did you meet? she asked after a moment, long tail swaying.

The silence stretched between them a moment and Redd allowed it to settle comfortably.  She too was thinking about that time, the start of true change.  But her own had begun before this, when she had set her ambitions aside and no longer been worthy of them.  It did not matter that her isolation had not been a choice; since then she had fought a quiet battle of her own, one she was ill suited to, closing the space opened between she and the pack.  The hunt family seemed approving, but her own family felt distant still.  Wealda's shadow marked them all.

As they always did, her thoughts smoothed and lightened when Gavrel was mentioned.  Her ears twitched with surprise, but she smiled, an expression that softened her more fully into Redd.

It was hard to fit him into words, let alone the things she felt.  He is sunlight. She replied, thinking of the association she’d had upon meeting him.  It was not only his golden fur, but the warmth he held and the ways he drew her into brighter moments.  He chose to follow.  She was grateful for it every day.

Gavrel had told Masquerade how he felt, Redd knew.  But what did her sister think of him?

She’d never thought of Riley that way, though she thought she could relate to the feeling nonetheless. She’d only met Gavrel the once, though Masque had instantly liked him. Perhaps it had been as swiftly straightforward for her sister.

He seems like a good choice, Redd. We hunted together, and she thought he would be a good provider. He said he wouldn’t mind visiting with us often, which spoke to his diplomatic qualities. We talked about you and the possibility of kids, she continued, expression soft.

Parenthood was a foregone conclusion for a high-ranking female with a mate, Masquerade supposed, and more than once, she’d wondered how Redd might defend her title without bearing young. She still thought it would go a long way to solidify the Redtail legacy begun by Avicus. But did her sister want that? She hadn’t, until she had.

Ratchet cramps aside, pregnancy is pretty neat, Masque joked, marigold eyes speculative.

As Masquerade mentioned children, the smile faded, and she set her gaze forward again as she listened.  It was the seat of a deeply rooted anxiety in her and could spell the end of her leadership.  She was resigned to this, knowing if her season was to come, it would have already done so.  Yet there was nothing.  If the Rise did not wish her to be Wealda because of it then she should not be Wealda; it would always only ever be their choice.

Masquerade had not asked and so she did not speak.  Now, however, she needed to wonder if she also risked her mateship.  If he wished for kids, and she could not provide, then it was only natural he should find one who would.  

She did not resent her sister, nor New Snow, their happiness.  It was neither of their faults that her claim had not been sound enough to overcome the stress of a shifting tide.  She could only hope that next year was different, and that she proved to be enough as she was until then.

She hoped her words would coax out Redd’s thoughts on the matter of motherhood, though she remained mum. Masquerade’s tongue darted out to lick her nose as she regarded her sister, a familiar feeling welling up inside her. It wasn’t quite frustration. Perhaps it was futility.

She wouldn’t press, save for the touch of her muzzle against Redd’s. She hoped her sister did want to be a mother and that it would happen soon. Event though they no longer shared a habitat, this was still an experience they could share. Masque’s heart squeezed at the thought.

Feeling the conversation had run its course, Masque reluctantly accepted its conclusion by saying, Well, I won’t keep you. Get back to that sunbeam of yours, and offering her litter mate a little grin.

She took her littermate’s touch as solidarity and appreciated it, though she did not return the gesture right away.  She was unused to wanting things beyond the wants of the pack.  Lately it seemed it was all she did.

Wealda can provide.  Protect.  She replied, as if in doing so she could convince herself as well.  She did not need to have the children of the Rise in order to claim them, though in truth, New Snow could have her crown in an instant if she demanded it. Somehow the hunt wife hadn’t.  Redd did not think she would.

She nudged Masque back, muzzle to shoulder, before flicking her tail in acceptance.  She would scout the eastern way as she returned.