Redtail Rise fulvous

Though she couldn't have been much older than him, her authority immediately made him look up to her. He had been a follower all his life and he unconsciously fell into step beside her, a few strides behind.

Her name was Redd and she was Wealda. He committed both of these foreign words to memory, imagined the way they might feel in his mouth. Her tacit nature reminded him of the boy from the plains, how their paths had diverged suddenly and silently at the lake.

She thought of her shortcomings, he thought of his own -- but he before he could begin to properly wallow, she darted forward and he tensed, thinking it a belated test. When she leapt away, it was a profound relief that fully dredged a smile up onto his face; his eyes shone as he accepted her invitation.

Two figures, one russet, one blond, weaved their way through early-spring lushness. He barked once, voice throaty with delight.