Redtail Rise sonata

maybe @Masquerade ? Otherwise aw!

Ashlar was not around as much as he had been in the early days, but he did try to stop in frequently and see how the puppies were growing. The last few visits he had noticed that one hung back.

The abrupt shyness was strange in a pup so young, especially one of Avicus'. They'd been so bold this far that the bard hadn't needed to wonder if they would grow to fit in.

Now he did wonder, if not that, then at least what had changed. She usually wasn't far from her siblings - he would start there.

She had not yet made the connection between the constant, sonorous droning and the little exoskeletons that appeared in the grass or even on the trunk of her favored tree every morning. Masquerade did rather quickly discover they were very brittle. She enjoyed crushing the first few she found, then changed her mind and began handling them with more care. Over several days, she collected a proper legion, which she gently lined up near the base of the pine.

The pup was admiring her handiwork this morning when a familiar figure appeared at the rendezvous site. Unaware that he was looking for her, Masquerade reflexively shrank into the shadows underneath the pine. She watched him for a moment, letting out a breath when she realized it was only Ashlar. Despite his familiarity, she enjoyed spying on him for a moment or two before revealing herself by silently stepping out from beneath the pine’s lowest boughs.

He thought he might not find her. Then Ashlar saw her appear, eventually, beneath the branches of a tree. She didn't approach immediately, so he closed only a bit of the distance, then smiled and bowed a bit with an inviting air. I was going to look for frogs in the shallows. Do you want to come? He used to love chasing frogs as a child. He would end the day filthy and exhausted, drenched in mud from the pond's bank back home, but he could hardly remember having so much fun doing anything else besides singing. There were no ponds here like the one he'd had as a child, but Ashlar hoped that the river would work. He would find place where the shallows were larger and the water was caught still, allowing them to spawn.

He could not outright ask her if anything was bothering her. But if he drew her into play, perhaps he could ask some things and they would not be seen as questions so difficult to answer.

If he wanted her to come along, Masquerade supposed she didn’t really have a choice, no matter how Ashlar framed the question. She hesitated for only a moment before nodding and slowly padding closer. She drew some comfort from his soft-spoken familiarity.

She halted beside him, prepared to follow obediently. Masque wondered where exactly they would look for frogs and what Ashlar intended to do with them should they find any. Her long tail hung limp behind her, the twitching of its tip betraying her quiet curiosity.

The pups were quiet. Ashlar didn't mind usually, but her lack of response still felt like more. He beckoned, welcoming her to follow alongside, and fell into an easy walk towards the river.

The tadpoles grow through the spring, among the reeds and in the mud. Then, when it gets hot, they grow legs and become frogs. He explained softly. That's when they grow big enough to eat, so long as we can keep up.

It would take a moment to find a good spot, a place along the water with a large enough shallow that he wouldn't need to worry about her going out too far or floundering in the water. So he continued on, speaking with no real expectation of answer. I noticed you were there less, when I came. So I wanted to take some time, just us. It was a gentle hint at an invitation, but one that he'd leave open for the duration and even beyond. He was quietly available, for company or even to listen, if she chose.

He beckoned and she trailed along obediently, ruddy head held low and even with his right shoulder. Other than her footsteps, Masque made no sound at all, her ears tilting attentively toward the sound of Ashlar’s voice as he spoke about the life cycles of amphibians.

Her tail lashed a little at the word “eat,” curiosity piqued even further. So this would be a hunt. Masquerade licked her lips in anticipation, though the motion was cut a little short by the adult’s comment. He had changed the subject without warning and she blinked, trying to parse what he meant.

It took her a moment to process, though she shot him a small, tight-lipped smile and a wiggle of her tail to show her appreciation for today’s solitary lesson.

There would be no talking. That was fine. Ashlar had attempted a few times, while he was watching them, to kick up conversation. Maybe they would speak when they were older, when they were ready. Maybe they never would. It was hard for him to understand, and this lack of understanding was the only part that made him worry. He would be so unhappy if he couldn't share his thoughts with the ones he loved.

He led her until he found a place that looked promising, with shallow water and a small sheen of plant life on the surface. The water was collected and still here, set apart from the flow. He bet there were some lurking among the green.

You'll see their eyes. They keep them above the water, even when the rest is underneath. Ashlar said softly, then began to look. Whoever found one first, he would let Masquerade be the one to try and catch it.

They walked alongside a stream for a little while, Masquerade dutifully remaining close at Ashlar’s heels even as most of her attention remained upon the waterway. There were so many sights, smells and sounds to intrigue her young senses.

He slowed and stopped, recapturing her attention and directing it toward a shallow eddy rimed with pond scum. She peered thoughtfully at the still water, looking for any sign of these eyes Ashlar mentioned.

A waterbug skimming along distracted her, reminding her of the yesterday’s grasshopper chase. Masquerade felt a hum of energy strengthening inside her, a keen excitement for the upcoming chase and—if she was luckier this time—dispatch.

He was careful to stick to the shallows of the pond. There would be more there anyway, especially where the insects were thickest. Sure enough, it wasn't long before he spotted a telltale pair of bumps shining amongst the weeds. He stopped and waited, then gestured in the direction.

There, by the plants. It won't worry when you are on the bank, but you'll need to be quick in the water. One lunge. He said quietly. If she missed it would be fine, but they could try again another place.

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm even as her excitement mounted. Masquerade looked to Ashlar not only for instructions but also to ground herself. He told her where to look and, despite herself, her head jerked rapidly. It was enough movement to cause the frog to sink underwater and out of sight just as soon as she caught a glimpse.

Her lips pulled into an frown as she shot Ashlar an apologetic look. Masque slowly bunched her limbs closer together and crouched beside the water, trying to temper her breathing and other movements. She was hardly an experienced hunter but instinct told her that she must be very careful and very patient.

He was proven as a liar, of course, the instant she turned!! Normally frogs hadn't seemed to notice him until he got close enough to the water to spark danger, but this one must have been smarter than the ones he'd hunted as a pup. The bard met her apologetic look with one of his own.

This time you'll find one. Now you know. He said quietly, taking a few steps back to ensure he didn't frighten any away. He would follow to keep an eye out, and maybe drift to catch one of his own, but he'd always be paying attention to make sure she didn't encounter trouble in the water. She was still small enough for the danger to be there.

fine to keep going or to fade out, up to you!

Think I’ll fade this one! Thank you for the thread, it’ll be handy toward her trade. :)

She bobbed her head in silent acknowledgement. “Now you know.” Armed with this knowledge, Masquerade turned her bright eyes to the water, scouring for any signs of another frog.

When none appeared after a few moments, the pup decided to try her luck at another spot a little further along the bank. She swiftly bypassed Ashlar, then found an ideal place and crouched at the water’s edge. Masque reminded herself to be very patient and very still.

It was more than an hour (and several location changes) later when Masquerade finally zeroed in a frog and decided to make the leap. She splashed into the shallows, teeth snapping, but came up empty. Dripping wet, she could only watch as the frog’s silhouette glided out of reach underwater.

She didn’t want to give up and disappoint Ashlar, though soon she slumped in the grass and began gnawing on a cattail instead. Masquerade quickly learned that it wasn’t particularly palatable, spitting a surprising amount of fluffy fiber from her mouth.

It wasn’t long after that when Ashlar called it a day and Masquerade gratefully left the water, silently noting that it was not one of her favorite hunting habitats.