Larksong Grotto untitled tapes

Masquerade could only nod her head in acknowledgement of Redd’s frank words. Still clutching the rabbit, she began the slow march back toward the peak. She kept her red face pointed at her sister, eyebrows arching over brightened eyes at this word of another pack, full of healers who might teach their younger sister.

She only looked away to glance where Redd had indicated. She wondered if they lived upon the glacier or perhaps one of the adjacent territories. She would clarify once she could speak again. They were all distant enough that she wasn’t particularly concerned, though once they were more established—probably after she whelped—Masquerade might try her hand at ambassadorship again.

Thanks for the intel, she said upon nearing the edge of Nova Peak Dragon’s Back Ridge Dragonspine. Where exactly do they live? I don’t mind having other packs nearby. There was no one out west. It sounds good in theory but it made everything all the more challenging. There was little hope of recruiting. The isolation made it dangerous for us, particularly when we both got hurt. We were lucky it was only minor.

She thought of the she-wolf she’d killed in self-defense. What would Redd think about that story? Perhaps she’d tell her, another day. It still made her heart skip a beat, knowing that day would always come. Look at them, reconvening only one week after her return.

Giving into a sudden sentiment of gladness, Masquerade made an affectionate rumbling noise and pushed her nose against her sister’s cheek. She then drew back just far enough to comb her teeth through the ruff lining Redd’s face, an entirely sisterly gesture.

I can’t tell you how good it is to be back. Things are different now, she stated the obvious, echoing herself, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

In fact, things felt more right than they had in a long time, at least for the gray Redtail.