Redtail Rise Battle of the Gods

A flock of geese winged past overhead, their “v” pointed north. Masque paused to look upward, ears twitching as their unpleasant noises briefly filled the air. The birds soon faded into a series of black dots against the horizon, then vanished altogether into the February gray.

She dropped her head, reassessing her surroundings for a moment before breaking into a trot. The young tracker intended to return to the badger’s set today. Since first discovering it, she had spent many more hours there, watching the mustelid in residence. Over time, she had realized his burrow was part of a larger colony, though his was a bit of an outlier, located on the outskirts.

Masque licked her chops and picked up the pace. She had learned everything she could through her stealthy observations. Today was the day she intended to use the information she’d gathered to spring an attack. He was an older badger but brawny and hale. She knew he would put up a fight. But she was a seasoned hunter now, not only prepared for but looking forward to the brawl.

Masque's long tail gives her away—not too egregiously, but enough for Avicus to spot and recognize her from afar. she tails her daughter, the pungent badger-smell only hitting her nose as the distance closes. her nostrils flare and nose wrinkles.

hey, she whisper-shouts, cocking her chin and gathering Masquerade to her side.

clearly, the girl has noted the creature's presence, but she won't be able to handle it on her own; Avicus has never battled a badger, but she assumes the worst, especially after the battle.

she crouches into whatever brush is around them, motioning for Masquerade to do the same.

She was “in the zone,” so to speak, and didn’t notice her mother’s presence until Avicus spoke. Masquerade pulled up short, turning to face her mother. She resented being interrupted in the midst of a hunt, though she did not question her mother’s implicit command.

When the Wealda led her to a familiar blind near the badger’s den, Masque crouched down and whispered, I’ve been watching him for many weeks. I was hoping to kill him today and bring you the meat and skin.

you get post 750, dotter!

she isn't unaware of Masque's frustration at being caught in the midst of a hunt, but understands it. she hunkers down as quickly as she'd whispered, listening to her daughter's rundown of the situation.

an explanation that, quite frankly, brings a broad smile to her muzzle.

goodh, Avi replies, pleasure blooming hot, strong, in her chest and belly. such a daughter! hopefully the next batch are as loyal. i will help. your plan?

Masquerade has more than proven herself a hunter; despite being the senior of the two, she's happy to take instruction—and to correct, too, where needed.

Her mother was clearly pleased by her initiative. Avicus wanted to take part, which might require reworking her plan of attack. Masquerade considered how to utilize the Wealda’s extra experience and strength to best the brutish old badger.

She thought back on the time they’d hunted groundhogs. Would a tactic like that work here? There was only one entrance to the badger’s set, she knew. Masquerade chewed thoughtfully at the inside of her cheek as she deliberated.

I think we should stick to my original plan, Masque decided in the end. We wait for him to appear. He always comes out at this time of day to patrol the area around his den. We rush him when his back is turned to us.

They were in for a wait, though it shouldn’t be a long one. Sometimes he didn’t come out for his midday foray if the weather was poor, though it was only overcast, with no sign of rain. Masque settled into a crouch, bending an ear toward the mouth of his lair to see if she could hear any stirring from within.

There was nothing yet, so she flicked her eyes to her mother and asked, Is there a rank for a wolf who wants to be a provider? I like feeding my pack mates and looking after them, especially the young ones, and, just lately, any expecting mothers.

Hooray! Congrats again!

seemed sound enough a plan. Avicus nods and settles down for the wait, and is well within her blissful hunting reverie when Masquerade speaks again.

it takes her a moment to parse the words, comprehend them, then another moment to respond.

a hunh'her, she answers simply, brows knitted upward. what else would it be? and surely Masquerade has proven herself such. she corrects herself, then, adding, Bih'han, wha' we call 'em here.

she'd figured it was the long-tailed girl's destiny. she is surprised Masque is questioning otherwise.

There was something dissatisfying about Avicus’s answer, though Masquerade couldn’t quite pinpoint it, much less articulate it. She lapsed into a thoughtful silence, ever watchful of the entrance of the badger’s set.

I would be happy as a Bitan, she posited, but I want to do more. I want to take care of my pack mates in other ways, not just feed them. Lest her wish be confused with Ashlar’s healing trade, she tried to explain further, I want to help care for and raise the pups. I want to be the one you trust to look after them when you are busy.

Was she making sense? She looked plaintively at her mother, yearning so much for this role that might not even have a proper name or recognition in Redtail Rise.

she listens, slightly open-mouthed, to Masquerade's response. it still doesn't make sense, exactly.

a. . .heal'her? Avicus replies, slowly. we have one. . .

and in no need of more, thanks to Reki's apprenticeship. what is her daughter saying?

her face is scrunched as she returns her gaze to the badger's burrow, waiting for the arrival of a creature whose claws and death-battle will be simpler than this conversation to which her daughter has subjected her.

Masquerade wasn’t sure of many things in this conversation, though she knew one thing and that was, No, not a healer…

But before she could either try to elaborate or perhaps let it rest—it was entirely possible no such rank existed—a scuffling noise drew her attention back to the badger’s abode.

Every muscle in her body tensed as her senses honed in on the entryway. Any minute now, he would come bumbling warily outside to defend his little corner of the woods. She abruptly remembered that he often paused to defecate just after exiting. Perhaps that would be the perfect moment to strike.

You are more than welcome to maneuver Mr Badger! :D

not a healer. . .

'hhen—

her exasperated query is cut off, abruptly, at the quiet noise emitting from the den. she lowers herself, fur bristling, and after a few moments, sees a black and white visage slowly start to emerge.

a popping sound; farting, she thinks. too far away to smell the stink.

she's tempted to seize it now, but it's too close to its den, still. better to let the badger have some level of security out here, and let its guard down.

she rolls her eyes sideways, glancing at Masquerade.

Her ears twitched at the sound of flatulence, indicating that the badger would indeed toilet as soon as he stepped out of doors. Masquerade braced herself, glancing over at Avicus right as the Wealda looked at her. She flashed her mother a little grin, then turned her attention to the badger now squatting right on top of the spoil heap just outside the set’s entrance.

The temptation to bum rush him in the middle of his business was strong, though the Toweard came to the same realization as her mother: he was still much too close to the den. He could swiftly lodge himself back in there. She’d seen it happen once before, when she’d accidentally alerted him of her presence.

But that made Masquerade think of myriad other times when some small noise in the forest had elicited an entirely different reaction from the badger. Once, a squirrel had bounded past and he’d lunged after it, defensive of his territory. The bushy-tailed rodent had narrowly escaped up a slender fir.

Now an idea struck her. Masquerade looked around for a stick, then picked it up in her teeth. Clenching it tightly, she tried to catch Avicus’s eye and communicate her intentions. She would toss the stick off to the side, luring the badger away from his hideaway. Her mother could cut off his escape route and Masquerade could close in from the other side.

she watches Masque with the stick and thinks, clever girl.

she sinks down low and watches as the badger starts, looking hard into the brush where her daughter had vanished. the danger is there. . .

Avicus steps forward, step, by step, by step—

she lunges and finds a hind leg, feeling the animal thrash in her grasp. she cries out between her teeth, summoning Masquerade to end this animal's life, while she digs deep into the earth, holding it at bay.

each twist wrenches her teeth; she wants blood.

This is the post I should read at the upcoming slam. LOL.

She saw approval on her mother’s face. Her aurulent eyes shifted back to the badger as he finished kicking soil over his droppings and turned. Sniffing the air, he lumbered toward the woods surrounding his den. Masquerade’s teeth clenched around the stick, waiting for the perfect moment before whipping her head and flinging it. It sailed into the undergrowth growing along the fringes of the set.

The badger started at the noise, halting and staring shrewdly into the hedge. Avicus prowled up behind his motionless figure, closing between the badger and the entrance to his den. By the time he sensed the danger lurking at his rear and began to turn, she had not just cut off his escape route but ambushed him, snapping at his right hind leg.

Masquerade watched this unfold, braced to attack. The instant the Wealda’s jaws closed on the badger’s limb, she sprang forward. Just as she’d anticipated, he was a force to be reckoned with, writhing rapidly despite his heft. He struck out with both tooth and claw, though before he could land a blow against Avicus, a snarling Masque latched on to the tendon between his neck and shoulder.

The young she-wolf sank her teeth in with all the force she could muster and began rapidly shaking her head. The badger was heavy and, furthermore, pinned in place by her mother. Although this meant Masquerade couldn’t wring him like a rag doll, her fangs sank and slashed all the deeper, seeking to tear out the side of the badger’s throat.

A flailing leg bristling with fearsome claws slashed at her chest, raking through hoary fur and breaking skin. Masque refused to relent. She ignored the burning sting and deepened her bite while pivoting clear of the swinging limb. Her canines sawed and mauled, blood spouting and flesh ripping until badger and wolf alike were soaked in hot, gushing ichor.

for this one's end, Avicus gets a front-row seat. she holds fast and watches as her daughter sinks teeth into throat, the blood spraying and covering them both. she shuts her eyes, lest it blind her. the iron-tang smell rises around them and her stomach aches hungrily.

the kill lay dead between them, and Avicus releases its leg, looking solemnly down upon the creature before looking back to Masquerade and giving her a slow, very impressed nod.

you eahh', she commands, gesturing toward the badger. it's food, after all, and Masque had earned first bite. she steps back, panting slightly, blood not making much of a pattern against her already-ruddy coat. 

she eyes the dark red spatter against her daughter's gray coat and revels in it.

As flesh yielded to her knifing teeth, freshets of blood spurted with such vehemence that it filled her nose and mouth. Masquerade unlatched with a gasping growl, gore pouring off her tongue. She coughed, then prepared to lunge in again when she saw that the badger sprawled motionless at their feet.

Avicus released his mangled leg, squaring her shoulders and examining their kill. Masque looked at it, then watched her mother, and saw the look of stoic approval steal across the Wealda’s face. It brought the Toweard immense pleasure, even as she sputtered on blood congealing on her soft palate.

It made her even prouder when Avicus instructed her to partake first. Masquerade bowed her head, then nodded. She reached out a paw to pin the mauled badger in place, then turned her head to hack up a wad of thick red spittle. She cleared her throat one more time, then returned her teeth to the badger’s gaping throat.

Instead of latching on or tearing free a piece to swallow, Masque snarled triumphantly as she buried her muzzle deep down that macerated gullet in the hopes of yanking out his stopped heart.

her indigo eyes grew wider upon seeing her daughter draw out the heart.

she'd thought Masque the softest of them—Relic the burly warrior, Redd the lithe hunter. but now Masquerade earned her place in blood, and Avicus's soul swelled to capacity.

all her children—worthy.

her breath was caught fast and she doesn't know how to react;

once the badger ceases she pads over to her daughter and then presses her muzzle against Masque's blood-soaked mouth, sharing the crimson with her.

killers, they. 

oh, what a wonderful thing to share.

She couldn’t quite reach her target, though this did not faze Masque. She ripped and tore until she managed to get a grip on that small, mighty organ. Her teeth closed around it and she yanked it free of its network of tissues and veins, more blood oozing from the kill as she stepped back.

It was tempting to throw back her head and swallow it whole, though Masquerade swung her bloodied face toward Avicus and deposited the muscle at her feet. It was rich with nutrition, which the Wealda would need to feed herself and the young growing within.

With a twitch of her long tail, Masque then turned back to the badger’s corpse and began to feed. Every time she came across a choice morsel, she nudged it toward her mother. Besides the torn throat, she took care not not to destroy the pelt further. After they picked the badger’s bones clean, Masquerade wanted to try skinning again, hopefully with more success this time.

I figured this was a good place to wrap, wanna post once more and/or ship it to the archives? :)