Redtail Rise The Old Songs Are Waking

New Snow heard Bloodspot, though as ever understood little that was verbalized. Her time here had granted her some grasp of it however, and the more the Caru spoke the more clues there were. She could parse together things like harm and you—they were talking about her—and chase and scent. Me—now they spoke of themselves. Sorry, and then, support, heard often enough in her role during the hunt, and next came pregnancy, which sounded to her a lot like the word she had been called by others when with child. Another name, like New Snow and Mother! Yes… many had named her that. You’re pregnant, they would say. 

But only during that time! Never after! But New Snow did not think too much about it. 

And lastly was here, and her tail wagged a little. Here was right where they were, right where they stood. Or where she was wanted. It did not seem the latter in that she was already here! New Snow considered these things she knew, and brought them together to understand what it was Bloodspot might mean. When she felt she did, her tail began to wag more. Bloodspot was sorry—perhaps for that day. But New Snow answered with soft, encouraging whuffs and looked on at the Caru with proud, motherly eyes. The sounds were meant to assure. I am here, as that had been the outcome. 

The other potential end had not been considered after that day. Bloodspot had not driven her off for her future desires, though that was due to Bloodstar. Here, though, New Snow also understood why—instinct, in the interest to preserve their own bloodline. New Snow could not articulate all of these things. She pawed softly at Bloodspot, eyes soft. You did nothing wrong, she wished to convey—soft whines to comfort. New Snow was a wolf of feeling, but in the ways of the wild she was all too understanding. 

New Snow swept the snow off the rabbit as Bloodspot nudged the dead thing closer, and kept one broad paw upon it. These next words New Snow did not interpret fully—but the things that she hoped to share then were in line with the others words, which she did not know, and were in line with what New Snow had grasped as scent had been said.

Now New Snow moved toward the side of Bloodspot, pausing when her nose was near to the others tail. A ginger sniff caused New Snow to look to Bloodspot with a knowing look—your season approaches!—before she drew backward enough to place her cool wet nose near to her belly. New Snow rumbled again, and there was a noise that would not be unfamiliar to Bloodspot, in that her own girls called her by this name with their sounds, and Red Woman too when speaking of their Rise cubs of her blood. You will be mother, too.

Happiness filled her heart. Circling her to stand alongside her, and then in front of her again, New Snow again reclaimed the gift with her paw, though moved to nuzzle Bloodspot, unable to withhold the affection she felt for her. 

Another soft noise, I will be here, coming out in a happy string of rumbles.