Phoenix Maplewood More Passion, More Energy, More Footwork

Augur said nothing, wordlessly or otherwise. Perhaps he thought Masquerade was talking to themself. Maybe they were talking to themself. Nobody had judged Ancelin’s and Lilia’s plans to find their own fortune. It was only when they’d blatantly disrespected the Wealda’s say that things had gone awry.

A low croon scattered their thoughts. Masque gazed at the Ulfhedinn, watching as he shook the rest of the earth from his pelt. He gestured toward the rise. But the Caru did not move right away. They stared at the specks of soil that had landed at his feet.

He had been digging a den. There could be no purpose for that outside of housing his mate and a litter of pups. Whether or not Augur intended to claim the maples, it seemed they intended to whelp here. Masquerade would not be able to serve them as Caru either way, they realized with a pang.

Sighing, they climbed to their feet. There would always be Avicus’s next litter to keep them busy, they supposed. Ashlar’s recent return really raised their hopes with that, enough to make their long tail swing upward slightly as they flanked the hunt lead.