Redtail Rise run rabbit run

The whelp tensed a little, not quite sure what to make of the beckoning whimpers and the thumping tail. They were cordial overtures, to be sure, nearly impossible to misinterpret, but still Masquerade hesitated. She jerked ever so slightly when the she-wolf went on to nose the rabbit’s carcass toward her, then slumped onto her side with a wolfish grin.

Encouraged but still hesitant, Masque began to slowly creep toward the strange woman. The food tempted her, yet the youngster kept her eyes on the Blod, studying her. Her coat was pale—once more, she was reminded of Augur—and a little unkempt where it draped over her lean frame. There was a swell to her belly, possibly from a good meal. Perhaps that’s why she was willing to share with the Bearn.

She caught a glimpse of vivid yellow eyes before Masque’s gaze dropped away quickly. She had no desire to challenge the adult’s authority. She remained the picture of a submissive, would-be Omega as she continued slinking closer and closer still. She halted perhaps a yard from the woman and her kill, for one last assessment.