Redtail Rise Deadlatch

A feeling of disquiet threaded through them as they padded through the forests dappling the rise. Masquerade drew in a steadying breath and tried to focus on the task at hand, though they couldn’t shake their unease. They wondered at it. The dust hadn’t quite settled, of course, but they could think of no cause for this abrupt and poignant apprehension.

And then they thought they heard a noise behind them and whipped their head around, golden eyes catching a glimpse of a dark figure shadowing them. The knot in their chest loosened immediately and Masquerade’s breath whooshed out of their chest, half dry laughter.

You got me good, Mul, they remarked, pivoting to face him properly. I have no doubt you and the others will be master hunters by year’s end, Masque added, padding toward him.

As they came closer, they could better see the look on his face, in his eye. They almost asked him if everything was alright. But of course it wasn’t. The rise had just gone through a reckoning of sorts. The pups had been dragged along for the bumpy ride.

How are you? Talk to me, Masquerade coaxed in their smoky voice.

Thanks for nabbing, bruvver!