Redtail Rise It is one thing to say that something should be done

Birdie?

Carrion looked skeptical – that sounds too pretty! – then somewhat thoughtful – maybe I’m pretty? – but she made no comment one way or the other about him giving her the nickname. She supposed she could grow to like it, especially if it stayed just between them and their family.

Mulherin made a joke then, or what Carrion took as a joke, which earned him a sisterly scowl. You know the stones won’t talk to me, she huffed. It was a sore spot for her, though likely very funny to anyone who knew better than to try and converse with rocks. No, no, stones weren’t the source.

I was thinking I’d like to turn into a bee or a wasp for a day… then I decided that it would be better to be a bird instead. She liked talking about the strange thoughts in her head, and Mulherin was one of the few wolves she was comfortable speaking to without riddles. When I thought of what bird to be, I noticed I am like the birds that eat from our kills when we’re done with them. The vultures and crows and things like that? They don’t even mind when it’s days old, just like me.

It wasn’t a very clever name, and it wasn’t unique like Mulherin, but it was straightforward. Anyone who knew anything about her would know why she shared a name with decayed flesh. I thought of a bird for you, too. Did he want to know? Even if he didn’t, she said: you are like the Nighthawk.