Dawnlark Plains XLVII

from the rise did augur collect @Saturdays Sunrise and @Saturdays Sunset. 

he wished to see how apt either of them were for hunting. they would not go so far, nor test dangerous prey. he had found a new warren of young rabbits placed too close to the redtail home. perhaps one daughter or another would rout it.

he trotted in state, pleased in all his figure to be out beyond the bonds of the territory for a while.

Saturday’s Sunset quietly paraded after Father, abreast with sister Sunrise, excited to be led outside the pack’s territory and into the wilds. She licked her chops in anticipation as her bright amber eyes scanned the foreign plains.

It is so vast, her spirit chimed. Indeed, the terrain was far different than their home.

Her nostrils flared and took in all the scents. Her ears twitched as she listened. Then, she began to walk a bit more carefully.

the boulder-man trotted beside them, but soon he took larger steps.

a run!

out here was safe, he knew its waterways and game-trails, even the other predators which loomed too close at times.

the rise had the strength of teeth. the girls had the teeth of their father.

a bark spurred them both on, faster!

Survival was the only goal in life and instinct was a powerful thing. Every fiber of the young girl’s being worked to keep her alive. As they walked through the strange territory caution mixed with excitement to create discomfort, and so Saturday’s Sunset found herself on alert as she watched for both prey and threats.

But her Father possessed a lifetime of wisdom and experience. Much like Lilia had done, his confident presence eased the girl and showed her the true way.

Saturday’s Sunset heard his baritone bark. She yapped eagerly in response. Then, her walk became a trot, which rolled into a gallop. With each long stride, the young she-wolf could feel her muscles gaining strength and power.

they ran.

he leapt a stone. he leapt a log. he paused to skirt the edge of a large puddle, trusting her to do the same.

augur was filled with the cadence of birds, of wind, of rock and the taste of sea just touching the air.

he was exhilarated, and jumped high in his running, howling once before he landed and looked back for his silver-tipped girl, her eyes glowing as sunlight in her small face.

moon runner, he decided, her second father's name until the time came to shed blood.

pale star.

now moon runner.

and then she would earn another.

he called to moon runner again, his own gaze filled with delight.

Moon Runner, the all-knowing spirit knew.

The milky, rice-colored silver of the girl’s pelt was like a flash when she reached top speed. Her young, supple body fully extended with each stride of her gallop as she raced beside her agile Father.

We fly! her spirit exclaimed.

She mimicked Father’s motions, and his joy, as they careened across the plains together. However, when he howled Moon Runner could only yip excitedly – all the oxygen in her body already committed to her churning muscles.

He called to her again. Moon Runner weaved behind as a covey of doves exploded from the dry autumn grass.

the birds took to the skies. a pair of feathers fluttered toward the racing hunter and his streamlined child.

he caught one in his teeth; he landed with barrel chest heaving and when moon runner had slowed, he pushed the greyling plume toward her.

his yellow eyes were proud. his daughter was fast and strong, quick, intelligent. a credit to the rise already.

augur chuffed, bumping her once with his broad muzzle.

You caught it! The spirit hooted as Saturday’s Sunset barked, elated.

She danced before her father as he showed her the feather. Then, her body became still, with the exception of her flagging tail, as she inspected it.

Her nostrils flared as she huffed and puffed, taking in deep breaths of the fowl’s novel scent. The feather tickled the leather of her nose. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before - not fur nor whisker.

Then, she jumped into the long grass an followed her nose to find another.

he followed, wondering how many more birds would rise to escape her churning legs.

if they came, he meant to jump for each! and if they did not, the man would put his broad muzzle to the earth and track with moon runner through the grass.

shadows wheeled; he looked up to see herons winging their way toward a water source, and turned in that direction.

Saturday’s Sunset sprang through the long grass like a deer. Every now and then her head would pop up, only to disappear again into the sea of grass and millet. Father followed closely, not even two wolf-lengths behind.

Birdsign! Scent in the cone!

The girl followed her nose and flushed a dove. Father leaped!

Again and again, she repeated this process. Her heart thrummed with joie de vivre.

Then, Father peeled away and his daughter followed.

the sound of birds remained in his ear.

the herons congregated with their squawkings and shared words, a mixture of grey and blue flocks. they stalked along the bank at once, jabbing for retreating frogs or sunning snakes caught unaware.

there was a goodly portion of open space between the wolves at the shadowed treeline and the water-edge itself. augur descended into a grand crouch, a glacier poised over soft grass. 

quiet. they are larger than the other birds. they will be slower to get back into the air. avoid their hard mouths. go when you are ready. i will be with you.

Saturday’s Sunset mimicked Father. She crouched beside him slung low in a stalking posture.

She became statuesque. Silent. Every predatory play instinct became contained, honed for a real hunt. Her nostrils flared at the wetland scent, gaze attuned to the slow movement of the long-legged birds.

Then, slowly, she began to creep forward. Closer. Closer!

Steady, the spirit willed.

Each paw step was precise. Good genetics expressed their hunting phenotype.

Then, Saturday’s Sunset dashed!

The herons did not anticipate this type of assault by land. They squawked noisily as their large wings flapped, hitting the water’s surface, as they hastily attempted to take flight.

The next thing she knew, Saturday’s Sunset was airborne. She launched herself, without caution, like a dock-diving retriever. A mouthful of feathers was her only reward when, SPLASH, the young girl had overshot her target and cannonballed right into the deep end of the pond.

moon runner transformed beneath his watchful eyes.

she moved with the preciseness of the hunting blood which had formed and shaped her.

the acceleration was swift and graceful — and far too high.

augur followed on her heels, watching feathers follow moon runner down into the water. he grabbed for the heron with a mouthful of plumage plucked off its unwitting back, but whirled away for his daughter, allowing the beleaguered birds their escape while he swam out to find her.

Going to wrap this one up!

Saturdays Sunrise resurfaced with a loud splash and a gasp of air; A jolly look upon her face.

Those damn birds! He spirit jeered.

Nimbly, she motored towards Father, for Bloodspot had taught her the art of swimming. Then, when they reached the banks the girl shook out her pelt and licked Father’s jowls. Again, again! The spirit wanted.

Armed with her father’s lessons, a lifetime of hunting awaited.