Redtail Rise cinereous

Things continued to change and shift, despite the settling. Redd paced the borders proudly, but within her burgeoned an unease that was becoming more and more unwelcome. Her desire to hold Wealda, and her confidence in this claim, seemed to flicker and fade with each day that passed.

Others came and went as they needed, but she remained, silently left to wonder if it was more fracturing or a simple scouting. Each time she waited to find if they would not return, the paranoia eating at her. She did not like doubting. She seemed to do nothing else.

Her sister essentially paired, if not officially, strong and firm and ready to bring in new blood. Something she had not wanted… and the only reason Redd had stood before her. She did not like the resentment that lay within her for this either. Masquerade had made clear that her loyalties were present, but Redd was sure this would change when children came. Especially if she was still mateless and without children of her own.

Tulimaq was an option that she considered. He was older, inconsistent, prone to wander. She was not sure yet if she would grant it.

She no longer knew what she wanted.

For stability in the pack she had given up the stability of her own life within it. It was a trade she no longer wanted. It was a trade she could not take back. Redd picked up her pace, sprinting a course parallel with the rise. She should have allowed things to fracture. She should have remained silent.

From the crest of the rise, Masquerade’s eyes followed her sister’s figure as she streaked along the borders. Her head tilted, reminding her of the dead weight clasped in her jaws. She had meant to take this rabbit to New Snow, an apology for her untoward behavior. Presently she felt a strong urge to share a warm breakfast with her sister instead. She could always catch another later.

The Caru trotted down the frosted slope, trying to bark to flag Redd’s attention. The sound was very muffled, so she let the dead rabbit drop from her muzzle. She yipped twice, then snatched the skidding carcass and continued downhill with more velocity than intended. Masque’s posterior dipped, the drag of her hindquarters slowing her until she could spring back onto all fours near the foot of the rise.

The ground evened out underfoot and she could gallop toward her sister. The rabbit swung wildly in her jaws as her paws kicked up a shower of frosty sparkles. When she neared Redd, the Caru halted very suddenly and loosened her jaw just to see what happened. The rabbit flew forward toward the Wealda, earning a little chuckle from Masque.

Running felt freeing.  The last time she had felt this alone and unmoored, she had been in the darkness, but there she had not been able to run.  When she ran she no longer felt the walls of stone pressing in, the panic in her chest as their weight seemed to smother her.  All she needed to focus on was the ground beneath her paws and the wind that occasionally pushed at her with icy intensity.

She didn’t want to slow down, but she did, backing her pace off even more when two short barks sounded behind her.  She turned to see Masquerade coming towards her, and the easy joy that she used to feel in her presence was muted.  Her sister had been her only confidant within the Rise, but now she was her only competitor.  Redd could not share these things that she felt.

She met Masque with a smile and a friendly wave of her tail, ignoring the walls that were suddenly back.  The Caru had brought food… Redd nosed at it, inspecting it appreciatively, but stepped back with an apologetic glance.  She had no appetite for it right now.

Redd didn’t seem particularly amused by her antics. The laughter died in Masquerade’s throat as she regarded the Wealda with consternation. The law of parsimony would tell her to go with the simplest explanation: her sister simply wasn’t hungry right now. Why not accept the gift and cache it, then?

The Caru’s long tail lowered and stilled as she nosed closer to Redd. Nothing smelled amiss… which made Masque wonder if Redd had noticed the change in her scent. Her stomach tensed a little. She wanted to share the good news with her litter mate, though she realized that her union with Riley could very well be a point of contention.

Swallowing a little uneasily, the Caru said, What’s the matter? She paused, then tacked on, You can talk to me.

Redd wanted to tell her.  The temptation would have made her find the words, as best she could, were it not for the outcome she knew would follow.  Redd could cast aside the title of Wealda and Masquerade would step into it gracefully.  No matter how smooth the transition was, it would signal disarray to the pack.  The Rise would question the leadership even more than they already did, and those on the fringes would surely disperse.

She was frustrated with herself for trying to hold things together then.  And she would continue to be frustrated, because she wasn’t willing to let them fall apart now.

Not hungry, she replied, still apologetic.  You can eat.  She didn’t want to prevent Masquerade from having some if the intention had been to share.  Either way, she would eat later, when her stomach had hopefully settled.

She did not want to talk about herself, but she guessed that Masquerade had approached her for a reason.  So she sat and watched with open curiosity, inviting her to fill the silence if she wished.

I already ate, Masquerade said.

For a beat, she didn’t say anything else. She studied her sister’s face, trying to read between the lines. If Redd was distressed about something, would she tell Masque? Her ears slipped backward as she realized she wasn’t actually sure of the answer to that.

You didn’t answer my question, she pointed out, letting that statement linger a second before adding, If you don’t want to, I won’t force it out of you. But you can talk to me, Redd, about anything.

She gave her sister what could only be called the hairy eyeball then, though it was intended lightly. The Caru wouldn’t hound her sister, even though she felt little flickers of uneasiness deep in the pit of her belly.

I’ll take this to New Snow then, she said a moment later, pointing her muzzle at the rabbit, if you’re sure you don’t want it. I still owe her an apology.

Redd nodded.  She would catch herself something later if need be; New Snow was a better use for it.  She wasn’t sure how to respond to the previous statements, but it felt that the conversation would draw to a premature close if she did not.  Perhaps that was for the best.  Redd thought this but couldn’t feel grateful.

I can’t.  It was honest, and the only truth she was willing to say.  Everything was fine where it mattered.  She would do what she needed to and grow used to the change.

As usual, she was at a loss for what else to say.  What she had already said did not feel like enough, but she could find no way to improve it.

Truthfully, she expected Redd to remain reticent, so her reply earned a sharp intake of breath. Masquerade blinked, her heart starting to pound a little. Something was wrong, then, but Redd couldn’t—or wouldn’t—talk to her.

You don’t trust me? a voice in her head wanted to shout, though she bit her tongue. She was tired of letting her inner voices control her. She breathed in and out, swallowed against the inexplicably panicky feeling still clawing at her stomach.

You can, she refuted, speaking slowly. I’m sorry if I made you doubt that. But you can. I’m your sister. And your second. You can trust me with whatever it is, Redd.

Remembering that actions spoke louder than words, the Caru stepped over the limp rabbit and nuzzled encouragingly at her chin. Her mind flipped through the possibilities of what could be ailing Redd. Was it their mother? Was it her crown? Was it Riley?

I trust you.  The reply was immediate.  Redd trusted Masque in all of the ways that mattered, but this was something else.  She trusted that Masquerade would do what she felt was right.  She trusted that her sister would seek her happiness.  Redd did not trust herself.  No more than the rest of the pack, as in many ways, she was a stranger to herself now too.

She did not want to open a door she could not close.  She did not want to lose the home she had left, even if in holding onto it, she felt more distant than ever.  At least she could protect it from afar.  Perhaps she would find it again.

Redd looked at her sister beseechingly, begging her silently to understand.  They had not aligned often in recent days, but she hoped still.

Was it her?

But Redd’s retort came so quickly, Masquerade couldn’t doubt its authenticity. She blinked, mildly reassured but more stumped than ever. Her worry deepened, manifesting in a low, helpless whine.

I wish you would talk to me, she implored, because you’re honestly scaring me. Just know that I’m here if you change your mind. Or if you need anything.

It felt completely inadequate but the Caru didn’t know what else to do. She shifted her weight, pondering the difference in Redd’s demeanor since their last conversation and trying to think of what had changed between then and now.

Masque could think of only one significant change in her own life and decided she may as well mention now, There’s something I want to tell you.

Redd nudged Masquerade reassuringly, grateful to set the topic aside and not dwell on her own current anxieties.  They could not change what had happened, and from the start, they had been destined to clash in some manner.  Perhaps Redd would fall short in the coming months and be driven from her title.  Perhaps the spring would bring a division of the Rise.  The future was for the future.

Her ears pricked forward with the clear message that she was eager to hear whatever it was the Caru wanted to share.

Her sister waited, ears pricked. Masquerade paused to study her expression again. She had never felt so uncertain in her life. How was Redd going to take this news? It was quite possible she already knew, the Caru reasoned.

Remember when I said New Snow’s scent triggered me? Well, it sort of… She deliberated, unsure how to phrase for a moment. It woke something inside me, for lack of a better word. I never wanted a mate or pups. I actively didn’t want those things, even. But a flip switched.

She realized she was rambling. Masquerade stopped talking, shot Redd a slightly abashed look, then marshaled her thoughts in order to articulate them.

All of that to say, Riley and I are mates now.

Ever since the Caru had shared her desire for children, Redd had assumed that this would be the outcome.  The two were often together and he was defensive of her.  It was a suited match, and her own feelings mattered little in that.  Masquerade was the flip side of an identical coin to New Snow; they were too valuable to be lost.  The rise would support their children or it would fall.

Her future was less certain, but that was not Masquerade’s problem to sort out.  Redd would need to make her own path forward.

Her tail waved happily with the news, though more with the glad way that Masque shared it.  Good.  She said, smiling congratulations.  

It was strange, to feel both that she could not step down and also that she was entirely unnecessary.  She would sort these feelings later.

Redd really was a woman of few words today, though her succinct answer made Masquerade’s lips pull into a smile. Yes, it was a good thing, even if the events leading up it had been quite the trial. Riley’s support had gone a long way to help Masque settle into her new self.

Pregnancy still—‘scares’ isn’t really the right word, she found herself saying, filling her sister’s silences. But I love pups, which went without saying, being Caru and all, and I want to have some with Riley.

It was the first time she’d acknowledged this concretely and aloud. Masquerade felt her stomach quiver for entirely different reasons now. She didn’t know quite how she’d survive the process. But it was novel, seriously contemplating pups of her very own for the very first time.

Redd had assumed that Masquerade’s challenge of New Snow, and their conversation after, had already been her declaring this. The significance of the reveal was lost on her, but she at least understood the reservations on some level. Pregnancy was a risk.

She tried to find some insight to add, some way to show solidarity, but found herself again without the words. The silence that had always been more natural to her now was suddenly frustrating.

You deserve it. Finally she had settled on three. It was disquieting, how many times her usual mannerisms seemed insufficient to communicate the meanings intended. Riley was new to her, Masquerade’s intentions were new to her, and her own place in this future was something she could barely comprehend.

The tone was right, though. Her voice was genuine and warmer than usual. Time would tell if Riley deserved Masquerade as mate, but her sister had proven many times over that she deserved to be a mother.

She supposed this was an indirect way of seeking the Wealda’s official blessing. The newly woken part of Masquerade rankled at that, though mostly she was glad for the tacit approval in Redd’s words.

Yes, the Caru agreed with a little smile, I do.

She huffed a breath, brow furrowing as she once again regarded her sister’s face. Redd’s reluctance to talk to her still bothered her, though Masque knew there was nothing for it, at least right this moment.

I’m going to take this to New Snow, she repeated her earlier words, reaching for the kill. Before she grabbed it, she added, If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.

She snatched the rabbit off the ground. Since her mouth was otherwise preoccupied, she butted her head against Redd’s shoulder in lieu of another nuzzle. With one last lingering look, Masquerade then spun on a heel and trotted back into the territory’s interior.

Redd sensed the discussion hadn’t been enough, but did nothing to address it.  Instead she returned the gesture, then watched silently as her sister moved away before taking her own route along the border once more.

She was not a wolf who had ever enjoyed being alone, but there were aspects she could at least be grateful towards.  The silence never needed filling.  Perhaps another would need her company elsewhere - for a hunt, if nothing else.