Redtail Rise θ

red dusk follows without rushing him.

the ground here gives softly under paw, grass damp with melt, ash still breathing faint beneath it. black foot moves ahead, earnest and intent, and red dusk reads the story alongside him. pressed stems. warm earth. a bed broken in the night.

doe. large. rested. gone at first light.

he lowers his head and draws the scent deeper, then steps wide to circle the bed, careful not to trample what remains. his tail lifts once, slow, pointing where the trail thins before strengthening again downslope.

he moves back to the boy’s shoulder and noses the air, a quiet encouragement. keep low. keep steady.

the doe is not far.

and the rise is teaching him how to listen.