Redtail Rise sanguine

He followed.

Irritation grew.  With it, strangely, melancholy.

There was only one path, then.  If she had lost their trust.  If she was not strong enough to claim her title from them.  If she was no longer prepared to accept a role where she submitted.  She was now the young usurper, the interloper unworthy of seizing something from a wolf more established and physically powerful than she.

She had to disperse.

Redd slowed as the realization struck her and left her feeling sick.  It was natural.  Young wolves did this all the time.  It was as much a part of the order of things as their claiming of her place, and again, it had happened before.  Masquerade had walked this path before her.

In months she might recover enough to fight them fairly.  She did not want to wait, nor did she want to displace them from a place they clearly deserved.

Finally peace settled across her, and when she met Ulfhedinn’s gaze, it was with sorrowful acceptance.  She would call Ruckus, but no others would follow.  She did not foresee herself dividing the pack when it was only she who was divided.

The decision was made.  She did not try to drive him off again.  But she now made for the borders, knowing Ruckus would join her there.