Redtail Rise Book III: Chapter I

Birthplace, the spirit whispered to its vessel as Moon Runner walked among the charred boles of Redtail Rise.

Scents had grown stale. The forest, quiet.

There was no sign of Father, Mother, Sister, Vulture, Faraway Shadow, Pebble, Little Paw, Storm Chaser, Red Wolf, or Chipmunk.

Cloud Dancer and Grim Tooth had travelled away long ago, as well.

The burned place transformed into a forest of pine and spruce. She took a well-remembered path. Moon Runner never thought she would return. It wasn’t the path of a dispersal wolf. But it seemed her spirit knew something the vessel didn’t.

She arrived at an overlook and stood on a plinth of rock.

owo... welcome back moon runner!!

---

the young northborn of nova peak is downwind. half-hidden, the ragged hem of his father's bearskin brushing the remnant foliage.

a drifting scent of strange familiarity called nowke once more to the rise.

he is upon the woman's trail. moving forwards through the newly spawned growth with ranging limbs. he scors into the soot dark earth, leaving behind deep grooves in the shape of large paws.

redjaw only comes to a slow when he arrives upon the woman, and sees her in the distance. only several fox lengths, standing upon a ledge of rock. with wind whistling through her fur, beauty if he had ever seen it.

his glacier eyes rake her from behind as he chuffs a noise to her. one meant to make her aware of his presence, if she wasn't already. and as the youth moves closer, he circles wide.

Thank you!! ^__^

Moon Runner regarded the Rise’s majestic lowlands from her perch and tested the wind with a searching nose.

Only when the other canine revealed himself did she become aware of his presence.

A low chuff. Crunching snow beneath broad feet.

Moon Runner’s head turned to regard the interloper. It was a dark wolf. A youngster male, by her measure. He had the build of a yearling: an imposing frame, still in the process of filling out, with disproportionate feet. Sky-blue eyes seemed inquisitive.

She clocked the bear skin across his shoulders. It was a peculiar habit shared with Cloud Dancer and Grim Tooth – one that Moon Runner never came to understand. Moon Runner might have once nursed this pup as Cloud Dancer’s treow, but it was so long ago… and the wild mind of Moon Runner would not be able to remember him.

The stranger circled her. Moon Runner approached, as well, on the bias with the intent to take scent. Her steps were assured, amber eyes curious. She had the confidence that if he was aggressive – she could easily escape. There wasn’t another wolf in the taiga who knew the Rise's many paths as well as she.

Who are you? Where are you from? What do you want? The spirit wished to know.

SO sorry for the massive delay, replies will be faster from here on out !!

---

the woman has a confidence in her step that does not go unnoticed by the yearling. bright, glacier blue eyes shimmering with more inquisition than anything else as they poke and prod upon her.

she is beautiful with a pale pelt. long legged, with a runner's build, muscle strong in her haunches and legs and shoulders. he huffs, visible breath from his nose. chin lifting as she scents at him, and he does the same as her.

she too has a questioning look in her gaze. she doesn't speak, and nowkē is more than happy to fill that gap in their silence for her. with canting ears and clacking of his jaws, satisfied and having committed her scent to memory, he speaks:

who are you, skydanser? he is unafraid, leaning in closer to her, head level and eyes peering deep into her own. so close, his stench would surely burn her nose off, as it did many others. this did not bother redjaw. i nowkē of winsook.

Oh you didn’t take long at all~ no worries!

They shared scent, each cambered towards the other like a light and dark ying-yang.

The stench! This youngster was lucky Moon Runner had a penchant for odorous things. In her youth a den-sister, that Moon Runner had coined Vulture for her love of all things dead and rotten, was especially stinky. Grim Tooth had been, as well. The connection, in the spirit’s mind, between this youth and Winsook thickened.

For such a young wolf his ears were quite torn.

What had he endured? the spirit wondered.

He drew near with an intense and piercing stare. In Moon Runner’s mind, the hard look was a precursor to aggression. Her posture stiffened. Jaw closed and tense. Amber eyes watchful on the youth. If he pressed closer, she would surely issue a correction to set a boundary of space.

Moon Runner’s tail flagged in a stiff and dominant wag. Then, she scuffed the ground thrice with her hind paws and kicked up snow behind her.

...was that a grin upon her doggish maw?

I am Wealda of Redtail Rise, the spirit claimed.

---

the woman grins, does not speak. this is met with curious, deepening blue eyes from the yearling. instead, she widens her posture, scrapes at the earth. a signal that is met with a step backwards from northman's blood.

chin angling downwards to brush across his chest, he rumbles a noise.

the mischief stirring in redjaw demands that he provoke her, impose himself upon her and anger her. challenge her claim, toss dirt into her eyes. but there is something else that settles in his unruly, stinking fur.

candor.

seaglass blue eyes blink and the yearling dips his head, tail swaying low among his hocks. submission from a wildling. though a particularly roguish smile, yellowed at the teeth, splits his dark mask.

my axe for you, skydanser.