Dawnlark Plains Switchback

Three of their younger siblings were becoming much more independent now. Masquerade sometimes went days without seeing them. Occasionally they sought out the Caru for entertainment or food, though less often with each passing day. Masque wondered if they would eventually disperse.

But then there was Mul. He was becoming a fine young wolf, an asset to the rise. And though he was also as capable and self-sufficient as his litter mates, he came around much more often. Perhaps it was slightly pathetic but Masque not only quietly considered him their favorite, they had begun to realize he was also their best friend.

They ranged along the foot of the rise, smiling as they raised their muzzle and summoned @Mulherin. Earlier this morning, a herd of white-tailed deer had settled on the neighboring plain to graze. By the time the mist had lifted, they’d shifted southeast in the direction of the moraine.

Masque could no longer see them, though it was easy enough to follow their trail. The Caru drifted in their wake, pausing at the edge of Dawnlark to await their little brother.

Prior to the summons, the dark-furred youth was already patrolling along the farther reaches of the Rise. Doing so made him feel like a true member of the pack. 

When called, he dutifully answered. Truthfully, he’d been waiting for Masque’s call for some time now. Their close friendship was mutual, and they were the only real presence in his life he felt he could rely on.

He found the Caru silhouetted against the dull prairie as they waited. The scent of deer was mingled within the morning air.

As he approached, he affectionately butted his head into their side. 

What’h up? We followin’ the herd? He asked.

Their heart lifted when Mulherin arrived, his crown connecting with their shoulder with enough force that the Caru staggered, laughing. They nipped at the fur lining his cheeks, long tail swaying hard enough to stir up a slight breeze. To say they were fond of him really was an understatement.

Yes, they replied to his query, and I want you to take point. I think you’ve got this, Mul, but don’t hesitate to ask questions if you’re unsure about anything.

They raised their muzzle a second time to notify the pack of their intentions. Especially after Redd’s wordless disappearance, Masquerade did not want anyone worrying about where they’d gone. Once the message was issued, they dropped their head and grinned encouragingly at the young hunter.

The Caru welcomed him warmly, then informed him that it would be his turn to lead their tracking mission.

Geez, mmkay, He replied, albeit a little astonished at first. However, once the prospect sat on his mind for a minute, he realized he’d been preparing for this moment, and was well-equipped to take charge—thanks to Masque’s training.

I’m ready. Lehh go. He added more confidently. With that, he joined in his sibling’s announcement to the Rise, grinning back at them before whipping around and loping off with a soft woof.

Time to shine.

The rest came naturally to him. Broken, trodded on grasses ahead alerted him to a spot where he knew the herd had stopped and grazed. He lingered there, intensely sniffing while also flicking back an ear to listen for Masque’s footsteps.

If he balked at being thrust into the point position, he didn’t show it. Masquerade huffed in approval as he ranged ahead, the Caru trotting at his heels. They noted a quiet confidence in Mulherin’s approach to the task, which not only made them proud but also made them think.

Maybe you’ll be Ulfhedinn one day, hmm? they quipped. Have you ever thought of leadership? they wondered.

He was probably too young to even consider such things. And nobody would take him seriously, except perhaps for them. Relic had fumbled his opportunity at leadership. Redd was gone. Nobody seemed to think Masque was qualified. But maybe one of the younger Redtails could be a rising star, doing justice to Avicus’s legacy and memory.

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head at their remark. Though he had childish daydreams of what it would be like to lead a pack, he’d never fully realized that could be a possibility for him someday.

Why noh you? He countered with a laugh. In all seriousness, he didn’t see why they didn’t have more of a leadership role. You’dh make a betteh Ulfhedinn than me. I never gave it muhh thoughh.

Because I don’t fight for it, Masquerade posited, an uneasy look drifting across their face. I’ve been fighting and hunting alongside the pack since I was very young, yet that’s not enough. And guiding the pups isn’t, either. I suppose I don’t have the right personality for it, they said, glancing away.

They didn’t say anything for a little while, letting Mulherin focus on following the herd’s trail. The two of them were approaching the moraine, where it would be significantly more challenging to find traces of the deer. The terrain itself was not easy to traverse, either.

I think you might, though. You’re confident and loyal. Those are both important traits for a leader. Choosing a path is critical too. But it’s not just doing your best or giving it your all or even sharing mother’s bloodline. It’s about having a dominant personality, they surmised, a supposition informed by their exchange with Augur last month, and specifically exerting it.

Hho what? D’you wanna lead? He asked. I hhink you’re more’n enouhh. Who hayhh why noh? Was ih mom?

Soon, the land grew steeper and the grasses fell behind them. The boy continued on, lifting his head to the oncoming breeze. He estimated the herd had to be further somewhere in that direction. 

When Masque broke the silence, their words made him pause for a moment. He turned, meeting their gaze. 

Reallhy? I dunno. You hhink so? He responded. I’he gotta long way to go till hhen.

Mul threw so many questions at them, Masquerade didn’t know which to answer first. They didn’t know if they knew how. This was a very emotionally complicated subject for the Caru, who still didn’t really have a grasp on their own aspirations and where they fit in at the rise.

He seemed open to discussing his own role, so Masque was happy to carry on with that conversation. They nodded firmly, then tipped their head when he said he had a long way to go.

Well, those who can’t do, teach, Masquerade joked self-deprecatingly. I could help you sharpen at least some of your leadership skills. If you really want power and prestige here, all I think you have to do is establish and maintain dominance, sometimes by fighting for it, they said, rolling a shoulder. But there’s a difference between simply being strong and being a good leader. I suppose they’re usually synonymous but not always.

Would he understand the distinction? Did Masquerade even know what they were saying? Were they making any sense? They shook their head, ears flapping, and decided that was enough talk for now. They thrust out a silvery foreleg and raised their brows, albeit with a smile on their face as they reminded Mulherin not to lose focus on why they were really here.

did a dice roll for tracking success here!

I’m goin’, I’m goin’,

He chuckled, turning back around and getting a move on. He let Masque’s words sink in for a moment before replying.

You’he a good teahher. He said. I’d like hhat.

Perhaps, he thought, during their training, Masque might learn that they could be a better leader than they thought. 

Though leading was not something he desired yet, it seemed like this might give both of them a purpose, or at least something to work toward. He didn’t mind having an excuse to hang out with his favorite sibling anyway.

Refocusing, it seemed that the winds had died down once they entered the moraine. Nothing but bleak, rocky slopes awaited them.

Then, the dwindling scent faded into obscurity. His pace slackened. He stopped wordlessly, contemplating which direction to go.

They did their best to clear their own head as they trailed after Mul to the edge of the moraine. Here, he paused to assess. Masquerade noticed he looked a little lost and waited patiently to see what he might do. The scent trail had gone cold, though there were other ways to figure out where the deer had gone.

They spied a pile of dung near where the grass of the plain gave way to more rugged terrain. But the Caru didn’t point it out, waiting to see if Mulherin would discover it—or some other clue—all on his own.

success!

A quiet huff of frustration. He knew needed to clear his mind. Refocus. Really, refocus.

But all he can hear is his hearbeat,

thrumming within his chest.

It was soothing in a way. 

He waited a moment until the rush subsided and he was left with nothing but empty thoughts.

With a brief shake of his pelt, he paces around the area once more. His judgement felt sharper.

There, he spies the dung pile. Upon investigation he finds a few faint footprints. And with newfound vigor he lopes steadily in the direction they point.

It took a few moments longer, though eventually he did find the spoor. Masquerade grinned and woofed their approval, long tail swinging as they nodded for him to lead the way along the freshly rediscovered scent trail.

You’re doing well, they remarked, pride not only infusing their voice but written all over their face.

Masque beamed at him for the find. He grinned back at them, and the pair traveled further on for awhile.

Then, movement far downhill.

A wandering speck. It looked to be a lone doe who grazed in the summer heat. Her herd had ought to be in the vicinity; however, he thought of a more rewarding pursuit.

You hhee hhat? Lehh find her fawn. He suggests, knowing the doe—if it had one—might have hidden its fawn somewhere else with more vegetation.

When they came upon a doe and Mulherin suggested locating her fawn, the Caru’s head reared back a little. They smiled at his ingenuity, though Masque knew he was in for a challenge. Somehow, they didn’t think he’d shy away from that.

Fawns are notoriously difficult to locate, since they have virtually no scent and their mothers hide them well, they said, pausing for emphasis before adding, I think that’s the perfect tracking challenge. Let’s go for it. And by that, I mean…

They made a shooing motion with one pewter paw, indicating that he should continue leading the way. Masque fell into step right behind him, licking their chops excitedly as their shining eyes bored holes into the back of their brother’s head. They were so damn proud of the hunter—the wolf—he was becoming.

*violently rolls dice again* fail!

Hopin’ we gehh lucky hhen, comes his response.

With a yap, he set off with Masque in tow—excited for both a challenge and hunt opportunity.

The fawn would be difficult to track considering its odorlessness. He used other subtle clues to steer him in what he thought was the right direction. Mainly, locating the trail of the doe they had spotted earlier. It led them back out to the plains.

He trotted along, checking any spots in the green he thought may hide a fawn. Time ticked and ticked away.

His lack of progress caused his enthusiasm to wane.

Still, he kept searching. 

Believing he’s taken a wrong turn, he changes course toward the moraine again. Maybe they could relocate the doe, he hopes.

Guilt prickles away at him. They’d gone in a circle.

Masquerade shadowed Mulherin faithfully as he tried to suss out any clue that might point them toward the fawn’s location. They saw the way he grew discouraged over time, though the Caru said nothing. There was merit to persistence, though hunts of any kind more often than not ended in failure. This was an important lesson for any aspiring hunter to learn.

Mul, they broke the silence when they saw a particular expression on their charge’s face. Don’t beat yourself up. We fail more often than we succeed. Even if we don’t find the fawn, think of all the experience you’re gaining just by searching. If we can’t find it, don’t think of it as a personal failure on your part. Just credit the mother deer for hiding her young so well.

They touched their crimson snout to his temple with a smile, then withdrew and waited to see if Mulherin would prefer to keep trying or perhaps pick up where they’d left off with the main herd.

Feel free to fade this anytime, unless you want to keep it going forever. I’m game either way, lol.

LMAO fading here! I can start another for us

A sigh. I know, He answers quite truthfully; failure was  unavoidable. However, today he felt an extra pressure to succeed with their earlier conversation. Ultimately he decided they should cut their losses with the fawn search and pursue the doe and her herd again.

He nipped at Masque’s ear as they came to reassure him.

C’mon, He hums with a flick of his tail.

They return to the moraine and continue their original expedition.