Redtail Rise fulvous

The ghost of a smile entered Redd’s look too as he followed, and she flicked her tail dismissively at the mention of the fox.  It would be a gift for the hunt mother; she would retrieve it later.

A name.  There were times, in the silent pack, she forgot these existed.  Her mind had already provided not a name, but an association - the flickering sun, filtered through the dense leaves above.  She did not know if this sense was of his hesitance or a sign towards a fleeting presence here.  She would not judge until she knew.

Redd.  Wealda to the Rise.  She said this with some pride in her bearing, but the mention of it brought the weight of her previous thoughts.  She was awkward in conversation even in the best circumstances, but it stole any words she might have found.

Her anxieties were not his, and she found freedom knowing that he had not been here.  He did not know her failures or the ones better suited to replace her.  With a sudden motion she nipped playfully at him, her teeth lightly catching the fur of his ruff, before springing away.  She would slow if she needed to not leave view, but sought to lead him into a chase that would follow a haphazard path through this part of the rise.