Redtail Rise Moonburn

She felt as though she couldn’t rest until the caches were properly padded. Masquerade slunk through the trees dotting the southern foothills, searching for whatever nocturnal prey she could find. She came to the edge of a small clearing lit palely by the waxing moon. Despite her soft step, she unwittingly disturbed a flock of nesting pheasants tucked among some dry winter vegetation.

Several of them took wing, startling the wolf into stillness as they burst out of hiding. Their silhouettes briefly blotted out the moonlight. Masquerade quickly recovered and trotted over to the place where the birds had been sleeping. She discovered several empty nests, still warm to the touch, and a single hen shivering on her roost.

Masque stared at the bird. Her sandy plumage blended well with the underbrush, though the night painted everything in colorless tones. Why did she not take flight? It perplexed the young Ulfr, who had never really hunted birds. It made her apprehensive and she backed away without peeling her eyes off the cowering hen.

After a few moments’ standoff, Masque suddenly sprang at the bird. Thinking of Augur’s treatment of the coyote, she closed her jaws around the pheasant’s head. The hen gave a token protest by spreading her wings, though that was all before the Ulfr crushed her skull in her teeth.

She dragged the limp body from the nest, still curious why the pheasant hadn’t tried to save herself. Perhaps she had been sick. Masquerade dropped the carcass and licked her jowls, eyes casting back toward the small depression left behind, where ten ivory eggs shone in the moonlight.

Birds were Ashlar’s favorite prey to hunt when things got lean. He was not particularly fierce or skilled, but he was patient, and he could usually at least return with something as opposed to when he hunted the creatures that took to the ground. While he would hunt other things in a group, fish and birds were the two he focused on alone.

Food was low - the last hunt had failed. Avicus and Augur’s mate needed to eat more as things progressed, and as spring lengthened, Ashlar spent more of his time gathering food than he did gathering herbs. When he fished he could sing, but he could not do that here.

He was searching for signs of pheasant when Masquerade’s rush nearby startled him. He moved quickly to see if it was a scuffle, and she needed help, only to pause and smile when he saw she’d caught one. A nesting mother, it looked like.

I usually leave the ones sitting. But the eggs won’t go to waste. They’re good to eat, for strength. Ashlar looked at her, clearly admiring the bird she held, then back at the nest. I can help carry the nest.

She stared at the clutch of eggs for a beat, one paw absently coming to rest on the dead pheasant’s breast as she deliberated. They looked absolutely scrumptious, though Masque knew she ought to bring them to Avicus or New Snow. She hadn’t eaten many eggs, though she knew they were as delicate as they were delicious. How could she transport them to the expecting mothers?

A voice answered her thoughts, spooking the Ulfr into a crouch. Her head snapped sideways and she stared at Ashlar, the sudden tension slowly leaking out of her muscles. She hadn’t expected to see anyone else at this time of night, though she didn’t mind company. Besides, he’d come up with a solution to her problem.

I want to take some to my mother, the rest to New Snow, Masque said in her deep voice. Maybe one each for you and me, she added on with a cant of her head and a twitch of her long tail.

You can have two, if you want them. Then they can have the rest in the morning. Ashlar smiled and looked at her warmly, clearly deferring to her as the one who both made the kill and the find. I’ll only have one if you don’t want both. Her offer was kind and he didn’t want to turn it down outright, but it felt wrong to take something that she had earned.

No doubt they could manage the nest, but it would be easier if they had something to settle it on. Ashlar cast around and began to range through the brush and trees nearby, and his tail rose and waved triumphantly when he found what he was searching for. This! We can use it to move them. He picked it up and carried it over, smiling around the branch clenched in his teeth. It was a small limb that spread into a spray of branches, one that could hopefully house and support a nest long enough to relocate it.

I only want one, she assured him, though before she enjoyed her snack, she wanted to deliver the majority of the eggs to their intended recipients.

Masque remained motionless as Ashlar moved off into the brush, clearly searching for something. Her eyes followed him, noting the instant he paused and then raised his tail. Her ears cupped toward him as she waited to see what he’d discovered. Ashlar carried his find over to her, though she could only discern the details once he came within a few yards, on account of the darkness.

She touched the branch with her nose, tail swinging approvingly. She nodded. This should work. Masque stepped closer to the nest, then glanced between it, Ashlar and the forking branch. She wasn’t entirely sure how to safely move the nest onto its transport.

Ashlar appraised the branch and nest carefully too, making sure to turn it so the branches lay in a way that would work.

I think it will stay together if we both pick it up and stay close. He offered, nosing at his side of the construction of branches and assorted dead plant matter. The few nests he’d seen on ground level had been tightly woven things knocked from trees. This one didn’t look as if it would survive all that, but it should survive being lifted if they were cautious and slow. He watched to see if she had arguments, waiting for her to be in position before he would grab his side. Once held he would try to ensure they lifted slowly and in unison, holding the mass of leaves together between them so they could nestle it amongst the branch’s offshoots.

She nodded at his suggestion, moving into position so they could very carefully relocate the nest in tandem. Something kept pricking her in the gums, yet Masquerade ignored it. She held her breath the whole time, so that it whooshed out of her in a noisy gust when they finally settled the nest among the limb’s forking offshoots.

Now her attention turned to the dead hen. Masque chewed at her lip, gaze bouncing from the carcass to the nest and back again. Eventually, she looked at Ashlar again. He would know the answer to the question floating through her brain.

I’m going to put the bird on top of the nest, she declared her intentions. We’ll take it to mother, leave it and some of the eggs with her. Then the rest to New Snow.

If any part of that plan wouldn’t work—namely, if the hen might be too heavy to carry on top of the nest—then Masquerade trusted Ashlar would let her know and hopefully come up with an alternative approach to their impromptu food delivery service.

He’d forgotten the bird, and looked at it with surprise. You don’t want it? It was her kill, and the eggs would be good for the mothers, but Avicus likely wouldn’t need both right now.

If she wished to give it to her mother, however, the Hælend wouldn’t argue. If you want, just make sure it’s in the branches too. So nothing falls. He thought the nest would hold, supported as it was, so long as some of the bird was supported separately too. The stick he’d found had plenty of offshoots to tangle the wings or feathers in.

No, Masque said instantly, bearing Ashlar’s advice in mind as she carefully placed the hen’s limp body.

Truthfully, she would’ve been happy to make a meal of it. She could use the nourishment. But with the stockpiles currently in jeopardy, Masque didn’t dare take food out of the pregnant females’ mouths. She would only eat the bare minimum, hence rationing herself an egg.

Working together, the pair of wolves transported her findings to Avicus’s sleeping place. Perhaps soon the Wealda would settle on a den, maybe even the one where she’d whelped Masquerade and her siblings. For now, she could still be found in the open. At this hour, she rested, though the young hunter would not be surprised if she slept with one eye open.

Quietly, she unloaded the dead pheasant and Avicus’s allotment of eggs from the nest. She nosed them into a haphazard pile close to the slumbering leader, then padded back to the transport. Masque locked eyes with Ashlar.

We’ll go to New Snow’s den site next, she whispered, her lips skinning back from her teeth as she made to pick up the branch again.

Her response was abrupt, and Ashlar looked at her again, his ears tilting back slightly with concern. She was thinner than she should be, though she seemed to move and hunt well enough. There were lighter weeks and there were better ones, but she would do no one any good by starving herself.

Without hunters there is no food at all, he said quietly, giving her a long look. He would not force her, but his gaze carried an uncharacteristic seriousness for the bard.

It was his job to see them all healthy. She was fine now, yet he resolved to ensure she did not stretch herself to thin. It was a silent promise he would fail to keep in the coming weeks, stretched thin himself in the care of newborns and strangers coming to call.

For now, he assisted with the delivery, bringing the food to each in turn.

saw the recent thread and don’t want to break timelines XD fine to fade this here if you like!

There was something soothing about sinking her teeth into the wood, though Masquerade was careful not to press down too hard and risk breaking it. She prepared to lift and glanced at Ashlar, her goldenrod eyes flashing in the dark and an ear twitching to acknowledge what she took as a casual comment and nothing more.

A little while later, they had delivered the rest of their gifts to the other expecting mother. Masquerade made sure to bequeath Ashlar his token egg before gobbling her own. As innovative as their transport had been, she now had a pretty bad crick in her neck and decided to take a short walk to work it out before retiring for what remained of the night.

Thank you for the help, Ashlar. Good night.

He’s more than welcome to come scold her in that thread if you like (or we can have another of our own)! :)

if Lilia calls I’ll bring him in! Otherwise they can have their own ^^ I’m still iffy on how much time I’ll have this next week so mostly focused on catch-up today!

She didn’t acknowledge and he didn’t press it, knowing that unless there was current medical danger, the pack’s choices were their own. His place was to assist and advise.

He nodded and then watched her go, worried, before eating his own egg. He’d have offered it but he could already see she would not have taken it. The hardest part was that he knew where that feeling came from; he felt the same. It was the first time he’d looked at one of Avicus’ children and seen something he could recognize within himself.

And now, to his chagrine, it was that very thing that worried him.