Redtail Rise pilot.

there are many changes in the rise; and those happening within him, too.

it was those he focused on, often scouting out of the territory far and wide. not returning for days. sometimes a week at a time.

when he was in the rise, he sequestered himself away to his bachelor den, though did his best to keep up on with his hunting skills.

but enough was enough.

it was decided one morning as he cracked a golden eye open to the sun filtering through the mouth of his den.

no more would he be a passive participant in the rise.

augur called to his son.

he had seen a single bison silhouetted against the backdrop of the early morning, snorting plumes of steam.

they would follow and see where the herd made its home.

the hunter paced off, not waiting to see that the young wolf followed, only expecting it.

a call from augur.

bobcat's path veers to meet up, footsteps falling alongside augur's own when their paths finally do cross.

soft curiosity at where they were going and what they were doing when they got there.

time, bobcat knew, would tell.

father and son carry through the rise until they come to the last place augur saw the bison. here he tasted the ground and air.

its heavy scent headed south and so would they.

careful of drawing too close, as a single bison could injure them both, augur took a different gait: it ate the ground in the same ground but it was the movement of a swift tracker, one who read the signs of the earth with uplifted head as eyes looked upon the horizon.

focused now, bobcat recognizes the scent father and him follow.

he has not hunted one before: because they are big, brutish brawlers of beasts despite their tiny horns.

not something bobcat could tango with himself and survive to tell the tale.

it's musk is strong along the path they follow and bobcat suspects it must be close by; an assumption father unintentionally confirms as his gait switches to that of swift hunter.

bobcat tries to mimic the gait, not wanting to ruin the hunt before it can even truly begin with heavy, purposeful footfalls.

the lone bison was there again, but alone no longer.

eight of them.

augur stood upon a ridge looking down among their broad bodies for a calf. it was almost time.

for now, he saw none, though three of the animals were heavy with young.

yellow eyes moved to bobcat. what do you see?

they breach the ridge, father and son, grassland spilling beneath them.

the herd: eight of them, bobcat counts in his mind, fan out.

too many for them to hunt on their own, bobcat thinks. to try now would be risking injury or death, surely.

there is no young among them; though his gaze touches each female whose sides were heavy with unborn young.

father looks to him and bobcat's gaze meets his for a prolonged moment; body posture shifting to one of unease, communicating that given the current demographic of the herd it would not be wise to hunt.

at least, not until later in the spring. maybe early to mid summer; but he is young still, largely guessing and hasn't lived enough season cycles to truly be able to understand the season cycles of other animals in full.

wise.

bobcat did not think they should pursue.

augur nodded. they would not hunt today. but they would test.

with a roll of his powerful shoulders, the deerstalker did as he would: pound directly for the herd, testing them.

he meant for his son to stay far behind at least this first time.

augur barked out a loud and powerful note.

bobcat itches to join as he watches father stride off, towards the large, lumbering beasts.

but the directive was clear: stay.

his muscles twitch with the desire but he practices restraint; hunkering down, golden gaze locked on father.

ears slick back to half mast before roving alert atop his head as father lets out a powerful bark. greedily, bobcat's golden gaze flicks to the herd then, observing their movements with a hawk-like intensity.

the broad bodies moved as the wolf wound around.

twice three of them lowered their heads, aiming stout horns toward the hunt-leader.

they did not run.

he adjudged them healthy and retreated from his antics, tongue lolling as he trotted back toward bobcat, his test complete.

the herd of the lumbering, thick beasts appear utterly unbothered by father.

bobcat watches them with a hawkish gaze; twin suns blazing into the brutish beasts, with their strange shapes; breaking observation as father makes his way back to bobcat's position.

bobcat straightens at father's approach, a low rumble lingering in his chest. they do not spook, it is meant to communicate; brow furrowing with his puzzlement.

how, then, were they meant to hunt them?

augur faced into the wind, then pointed with his muzzle toward the most pregnant of the cows.

he looked back then toward the rise.

the young will come. then we hunt together.

unspoken. wordless. with birth came death.

hawkish gaze follows father's muzzle, towards the pregnant of the herd.

the young.

bobcat nods his understanding.

a last glimpse is spared towards the herd over his shoulder before he makes to return to the rise.