Redtail Rise beowulf

A beckoning howl called for Moon Runner — it was the voice of the young male with ice water eyes.

She galloped across the jagged cliffs and cut between the charcoaled trunks of the Burned Place.

Another vagrant appeared, held at bay by the bearskin-wearing male.

He reminded Moon Runner’s spirit so much of Grim Tooth… but there is more. And she believed, for a moment, it is Faraway Shadow before her. They shared same protective, austere mien… and her spirit feels her trust in him grow.

Dark Spine, she thinks of him as.

The Rise lives again, the spirit said to its vessel.

Moon Runner approached the duo in a confident and relaxed way. She did not have the physical power of Wise Father, Sister, or Red Woman… but the spirit knew strength alone could not hold a people together.

A chuff to her new-kin thanked him, and Moon Runner brushed up alongside to youth to show-off their affiliation. They were pack, now. Did this newcomer wish to be apart of it too?

She measured the male. Her face was solemn, but soft, and she stepped forward as if asking for a show of deference.

Will you run with us? The spirit asked.