Redtail Rise Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque

Redd relented, taking a seat. Masquerade felt relief wash through her as she briefly met her sister’s questioning gaze. She tipped her head toward the moose calf, then tried to telegraph her intentions by very slowly resuming a crouch, facing it. She glanced sideways, motioning for Redd to follow suit.

Meanwhile, the calf paused and surveyed the forest. Masque watched, tensing a little. Had it caught their scent? Or had one of them made a sound, alerting it to their presence? These thoughts raced through her young mind as her muscles tightened, getting prepared for quick movements if they proved necessary.

She sucked in a sharp breath when she heard something crashing through the woods on the calf’s far side. The young moose didn’t seem the least bit frightened by the sounds, which would’ve clued in a more experienced hunter. But Masquerade could only exchange a confused glance with Redd.

When she looked back, she saw an enormous figure push through the foliage, stepping into view. The Bearn nearly wet herself as the calf’s mother loomed over her offspring, the two ungulates sniffing noses. Masque flattened herself to the forest floor, petrified.