Redtail Rise XVI

Footsteps announced a visitor to the den, a moment before the bark sounded. Masquerade promptly dropped the stick she was chewing and bounded toward its mouth to investigate, overlong tail whipping hither and thither. She paused at the threshold to assess their guest and then slunk forward, cautious and curious in equal measure.

The closer she came to the pale giant, the lower her posture became, a subconscious behavior cued by her most basic and primal instincts. He was her superior in every way: age, build, intellect, life experience, etc. Masque bowed her head, tail slowing to a tentative flicker.

She paused when she caught the vulpine scent. Her red muzzle wrinkled and she shook her head, trying to hold her breath to stave off the tickling sensation building in her nose. It was no use. Just like the last time someone had brought part of a fox to the pups, she snorted out several loud reverse sneezes.