Redtail Rise We are close to war.

Riley’s quip didn’t earn him much more than a raised eyebrow. His grin fell away as Masque loped off in a snort.

Two bugles sounded; both nearby. His ears pricked in their direction as he followed after the fleeting silver of his companion.

The spectacle that ensued was anything but. Riley watched wryly as the young buck turned tail.

Wise, considering.

To his fellow audience, Riley remarked. Experience is more important than strength. That old buck probably has a trick or two up his horns, and has fought more rutting seasons than the young buck has been alive. One slip by the young buck and he could be permanently crippled. He thought of the free meals he’d caught over the years. Bucks in antler lock, starving slowly. Gored bucks dying of infection. Maybe their showdown happens later, when the fair lady appears.