Redtail Rise Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque

She felt torn between fight or flight, though she quickly began leaning in the latter direction. Ungulates were frightening enough with an entire pack involved, let alone on a solitary basis. Trying to control the slight quivering in her limbs, Masque attempted to backtrack without alerting the calf to her presence.

When she felt something cool brush her shoulder, she jumped a little but managed to stifle the yelp that tried to claw its way up her throat. Her head snapped around, wide eyes taking in her sister beside her. Now Masquerade trembled with the sheer force of her own rapid heartbeat, her pulse pumping so fast she swayed with it.

When her eyes caught Redd’s, she saw the look of determination there. She immediately began shaking her head. No. No way. She didn’t understand where her siblings got their bravery (or was it foolishness?). But Masque absolutely didn’t share in it.

But she was also settling naturally into a lower role in the pack’s hierarchy, so it went against the grain to refute someone outright, even if it was only her sister. Masque didn’t mind deferring to her litter mates, especially since they were so ambitious and unafraid compared to her. It was the natural order of things.

Perhaps there was a compromise to be struck here. Masquerade wouldn’t be able to bring herself to attack the beast, though perhaps they could track it for a little while. It would be a wonderful opportunity to hone that particular skill. But would that suffice for Redd? Masque’s scarlet face begged for understanding.