Redtail Rise run rabbit run

Unlike her cousin, Masquerade did not simply move on from that terrible July day. She didn’t leave the den for days afterward, succumbing to a minor but unpleasant infection in her wounded tail. She recovered physically within a few days, though her spirit remained not just beaten but broken.

Avicus made her go outside at some point, leading the pups to the rendezvous site, by now quite familiar to them. But to Masque’s dismay, they stayed there. She thought about slinking back to the den, yet she feared the Wealda’s teeth and temper. Instead, she found a low-hanging pine and spent most of her time curled up in the shade of its boughs.

But she was still young and at least somewhat resilient. When a guest arrived with a slain rabbit in her jaws, Masquerade peered cautiously between jade needles. Her nose twitched and she slithered forward on her belly. The she-wolf smelled faintly of Augur and, besides, she had food.

Masque’s mouth began to water and, slowly, she crept from her hiding place. She didn’t go far, slouching on her haunches, head low and craning forward as she gave the air several inquisitive sniffs.