Redtail Rise way of the wilds

There it was; the line drawn between sight and observation. A parallel in the glint of Moon Runner’s gaze — the squirrel, the litter, the acorn, the dwindling fruit of summer.

Riley started as something from above struck her head. He watched as the acorn rolled to the ground, then glanced to the canopy above. More squirrels — their scampering upending acorns here and there as branches bowed under their weight.

Despite having no chance of catching the squirrels, Riley bolted to the base of the tree, placing his paws against the hardwood with a throaty growl meant to entice them down.

Come on down Mr. Squirrel, he just wants to talk. Promise!