Redtail Rise the fortunes of the world

New Snow was a first time mother. When Mountain Boulder seemed to sense something, she changed from the soft, sweet thing that in her heart she was. The time for playing must pause. Sunday Morning, protective, would not risk potential danger lurking nearby.

She shifted forward to become a bodily shield. Gently, she coaxed their son into the den. Once they were sure there was no threat, she would retrieve him again. The feathers went with him.

Tense, and ill at ease to think something might lurk, she rumbled her own warning. Her ears pricked atop her head as she spoke toward Mountain Boulder in another series of disgruntled grumbles to take a look around them. While he did, the new mother would stay in front of the mouth of the den. If he thought something was amiss, she would not question it.

New Snow trusted his senses, as he was hunter, and missed precious little. Her own eyes flit on and around the underbrush (not yet landing upon where Masquerade lurked), seeking a disturbance within them. If there was a threat, New Snow and Mountain Boulder would answer it in the way of their kind if need be.

With their teeth.