Redtail Rise tuscany

Despite her curiosity, Redd did not venture closer to those who claimed lands nearby.  Spring was a time to remain close at hand, and if they too whelped children, any intrusion would chance hostility.  Even diplomacy had its limits.

As she continued through the Rise, Redd found herself trailing @Gavrel.  She intended to see how he settled, though her curiosity was twofold.  What did he find in the pack?  What was it like, to hold no shared history, no common blood?  Redd did not think such a thing would matter, but she had never experienced to know.

She did not know if she would ask.  She followed nonetheless.

As he familiarised himself with the Rise, it felt again and again like coming home. In the groggy moments just after awakening he could almost fool himself that he was back at Khatai Canyon, that he had been stumbling through a year-long dream and had just returned to reality, that he had never dispersed at all and instead was condemned to endless, nightless days of blue skies, the same thing over and over again and nothing ever happening, the life leaving his life now airless and chemically inert, had it always been so difficult to breathe?

When Redd found him she would see him curled up beneath a thorny bush, asleep but struggling against the dream that sat cold and heavy on his chest like a paperweight made just for him.

His rest was troubled. Redd had no reason to disturb him and might have turned away if the distress was not there. As it was, she could not deny the draw of pack, even if she could not help.

She did not want to startle him and could not wake him without doing so. Redd considered this a moment, then stepped gingerly around, settling herself silently beside him.

She was in no hurry and did not mind keeping the company of his dreams. Perhaps she could help to drive him towards better ones by doing so.

Gavrel was a light sleeper. He twisted and a row of thorns poked into his side. He woke up to a smarting flank and Redd beside him. He thought he could recognise her smell, even asleep!

His cheeks flamed for her to catch him in such a vulnerable position. It was bad timing, that was all -- and he fought the knee-jerk instinct to berate himself.

Embarassed but no longer distressed, Gavrel canted his head to the side and yipped questioningly, moving to lick her muzzle in the customary gesture of submission.

Redd was considering sleep herself, but lifted her head when Gavrel woke up. He seemed apologetic but her tail swept behind her, and she expressed a light noise of reassurance as she accepted the gesture.

His voice, and his mannerisms, reminded her of someone. The Haelend had been many things, and she had never known him well, but her mother had trusted him. Like him, she sensed no threat in this man, and little need to posture as a result. Like the others, Haelend was lost to them, but the reminder Gavrel presented was comforting.

She wished to know how things had gone. How is the pack? she asked, looking at him but not rising just yet. It wasn’t exactly the right question, yet it was, for it was what she wished to know. How had they greeted him?

Before he drew away he briefly grazed his nose along her chin, the movement both subservient and affectionate.

I met Augur, I think. And Mulherin, he replied, voice still thick with sleep.

A groggy smile spread itself over his face like butter. In a more lucid voice, he exclaimed: You're twins!

Upon closer inspection, he saw the resemblance between them. It wasn't obvious. It required a more subtle sort of observation. The way each of them carried themselves, maybe, self-contained and assured, yet careful not to fall into the lull of overconfidence.

Fully awake now, he propped his upper body up on his elbows. What else is there to know about Redd?

His touch was a deference to Wealda, but there was something else in it as well. She was pleased that he felt so at home here despite the decency of his arrival. Even more, she was gratified by his comfort with her presence. Redd rumbled affectionately, her tail sweeping a bit more as she leaned in.

Augur and Mulherin. Hunt lead and lead fang, two who it was perhaps best to be known to. She did not know what he meant by twin so she did not argue; perhaps they were. They were blood.

Her ear twisted sideways uncertainly when he asked what there was to know of “Redd”. It was not something she had ever been asked before, nor did she recall a time that she had ever spoken of herself. Redd was one of many; a part of a larger whole. Even Wealda had not changed this.

What else is there? She did not know.

Gavrel watched the fine muscles around her ear shift as it swiveled. The hairs on the pink skin were glowing cilia; the sunlight made a halo out of them.

What else is there, she asked.

He realized with a start how fond he was of her terseness, the way she cut to the heart of things, the ruthless economy paired with softer moments -- he recalled their first meeting, the game of tag -- and perhaps it was her honesty, the way she presented herself and could ask such a question, what else is there.

What a foolish question to have asked, in retrospect. The answer lived and breathed in front of him.

Many things, I'm sure, he swallowed. His mouth was dry, and it betrayed him. He scrounged for words, came up empty-handed under her steady gaze.

He was suddenly less confident.  Redd continued to watch, not entirely comprehending, as he failed to elaborate.  At least she knew what it was to be without words.

To know about Redd.  Now when she spoke, she did not often speak as Redd.  Wealda was the one who needed words.  She was the one who needed to be known, to prove and bring confidence to others.  If there was room still for Redd, it was scarce.  The pack did not have need of her.

Redd is whatever they need.  And they need Wealda.  She delivered it with no tone of discontent, but the familiar unease rippled beneath.  They needed Wealda… but not necessarily her in the role.  She did not mean to sound as if the rank had been an imposition.  The truth had been insinuated regardless.

He wondered what it was like, having portions of yourself doled out as if by ration, by necessity.

How these wolves lived among themselves with their own ecology, these seething syntrophs that populated the Rise! Despite the superficial sparseness, there was a deep arborescence to their society, all rooted to the keystone figure of Redd. No, Wealda.

His expression flickered between consternation, respect, admiration. He had never known anyone like her before.

That's... He did not elaborate, because he was afraid of what he might say.

Instead, he moved to press his cheek against her shoulder, his blind eye closing against the coarse guard fur. If she allowed him, he would remain that way for a few breaths before pulling away, eyes averted.

ty <33!

He was correct; that was.  She felt the smooth pattern of the scar he bore against her shoulder.  There were many things that simply were.  Scars could not be changed either.  They only could learn for the present.

As Gavrel lingered, Redd rested her head on the thick fur near his shoulders, breathing out a soft sigh.  The unease was gone once more, lost in the simple contact and understanding.  Here Redd could also simply be.

<3

They interlocked like two hands. His heart swelled with something; he was not sure what it was, but it made him feel dizzy and glad to be lying down.

She smelt deeply of the Rise with acidic hints of a life lived. Sweat, dirt, wind, the sour notes of fruiting bodies she had brushed against in the woods. He admired the red sheen of her coat, gently worried a tangle out of her fur with his teeth.

For the first time in however long there was true calm inside of him, the sort of calm that made lakes look not like water but like glass panes of brilliant blue, shining as if buffed with sandpaper.

Redd is more than Wealda, he wanted to say. But it felt flat on his tongue, and he did not trust himself to convey what stirred in his chest at this very moment.

Instead he nipped playfully at one russet ear and jumped to his feet, the languid wave of his tail inviting her to come with.

It was comfortable there, her cheek resting on blonde fur, curled together in a quiet moment.  Redd was not standoffish, but despite the closeness she felt with the pack, there was a distance now.  Wealda could not risk deference, and the balance had been hard to strike.  Gavrel did not seem to require this.

She did not know what was different and did not seek to question it.  She simply did what felt right.

At length he nipped at her ear in warning, then sprang up.  She tried to catch him lightly in return but was too slow; she would need to follow.  Redd let out a low playful whuff, then rose in pursuit.

She caught up to him with quick strides. They rubbed shoulders, butted heads together gently, their bodies weaving in a haphazard double helix. His legs burned, his lungs began to ache with the effort of conveying air -- but he wanted to linger in this carefree chase and so pushed onward. His tongue flagged out of the side of his wide-open mouth.

He glanced at her sidelong, the world around them a smeared blur of stuttering sunlight.

In the moment of distraction, his paw snagged on a tree root. Caught off-balance and carried by his own momentum, Gavrel nearly cartwheeled through a bushel of wild berries. There was an initial moment of alarm but it was quickly overtaken by his breathless laughter as he lay sprawled on the forest floor, an echo of his and Redd's first meeting.

They ran, this time with him leading, a wolf abandon to it that matched the freedom they both seemed to feel. She overtook him at times and he did the same, weaving in and out of contact in an almost teasing dance.

Redd stopped immediately when he fell to come over with an exploratory fashion, at first concerned he’d hurt himself. He was only laughing. Her tail waved in relief, but seeing him sprawled out in such a way brought another feeling forward. It was an urge that had been lurking during their run, but now reared to strike in such an instinctual need that she made no attempt to hold herself back. There were many things she did not know, but these feelings she felt were quickly becoming clear.

Redd’s tail rose and, before he could roll to his feet, she stepped across to straddle him beneath her. She let out a low rumble, then nosed at his neck before gently, if he did not refuse, applying teeth that would not come close to breaking skin. There was no danger, but another message entirely. You are mine.

Her heart thudded. It was his right to refuse, though she did not think he would. He was fast, strong, and had survived much. His pelt bore a history that did not marr his soul, a history that undoubtedly only made him wiser. Redd did not need any longer to determine what she wished, now only awaiting an answer in return.

She moved to him, as if to inspect him for injury. Again, that lightheaded feeling -- the knowledge that someone cared for him without pretense, without the jagged edge of ironical distance!

But she did not stop at the inspection, instead continuing to close the gap between them. He froze as she pressed her teeth to the hollow of his throat. She would feel his Adam's apple bob with a halting swallow.

He wished to pull away, only so that he could search her eyes. Was this real? He found no reason to doubt her.

Half by his own volition, half by deeper instinct, he maneuvered his muzzle under hers to swipe his tongue over her chin. What was before a signal of submission was now one punctuated by a low and steady rumble of contentedness. I'm yours.

She felt him tense, then relax. She would have allowed him up if he desired it, but instead he acquiesced and rumbled, signaling his agreement clearly with voice and gesture. A shiver tingled up her spine, pure pleasure, knowing this. Redd crooned a light note of happiness and stepped back, allowing him to regain his paws if he chose.

Redd had resigned herself to no mateship this year, knowing the pressure of expectation was not enough to force her hand. There was more she needed, something missing that she had found, inexplicably, in this golden man. Perhaps it was sudden but Redd saw no logic in delaying. Her mind would not change so long as he remained. These feelings were not ones she’d experienced before, not even with prospects she’d hoped to meet again.

He saw her. She trusted this.

When he rose, she would come to him once more, licking his chin as well before nosing affectionately at his jaw. And I am yours. It was not a submission of rank, nor a gesture she would have made were they not alone. But it was a statement that here, in this, they were equals.

maybe fading here? thank you for this thread, i loved it so much <3

As he got to his feet, something small and weak-willed inside of him asked, when do you think she'll leave you?

He knew himself, his shortcomings. His maddening inability to experience a moment just as it was. Why would you ask such a thing? He fought the urge to berate himself, rising like heartburn.

A guilty sciatica flashed through him. He searched her face for certainty, the lovely wash of red over her forehead. He couldn't believe she would choose someone like him -- and he couldn't believe that even in this shared moment, he continued to only think of himself.

He returned the wolf-kiss and let their physical contact wash away his internal dissonance. In more ways than one, she allowed him to feel whole. The pieces of himself settled into a metered reconciliation as he brushed against her, cat-like. Her tangibility and her warmth amazed him, frightened him.

His internal struggle was lost on her, for her own was entirely settled.  She gazed at him placidly, warmly, sharing this regard until the moment passed and a familiar restlessness set in.

With a low sound of invitation she set off, first at a trot, then lengthened to an easy lope.  This time she led the way.  With the close of their run, and the emotion now abated, hunger made its presence known.  She intended to hunt.

likewise! <3