Redtail Rise We are close to war.

Rutting season came to the Rise. Riley could not help the energy that coursed through him, electrified by each rising call of the bulls.

More than once he watched them as they fought; first, they stalked towards each other with their heads impossibly high — their crown of thorny antlers scraping clouds —

Then, seemingly without warning their heads dropped and they charged noiselessly, spears thrust towards the heart of their targets. Then came their grunts and struggles. Sometimes, the earth was torn under their cutting hooves. Sometimes, flesh was torn instead.

The rutting season produced brilliant wastage for the intrepid wolf. Already, stags were weakened and does chased to the edge of exhaustion. Riley didn’t plan to hunt today, despite the plentiful opportunity. His energy was better served in finding @Masquerade — he followed her scent as it wove in and out of frost-studded fields, no doubt tracking the bucks in the height of their rut.

It seemed as though rutting elk surrounded the rise, the chilly October air filled with their ghastly calls and the distant clash of antlers. Masquerade steered well clear of them, though they occasionally perched on an outlook to observe from a safe distance. They spent this morning watching a duel near the edge of the grotto before an incoming headache sent them into the territory’s interior.

After an hour’s respite beneath the boughs of their favorite evergreen, Masque felt much improved and slunk out to fetch a drink at the creek winding through the center of the rise. On their way across a field still stiff with morning frost, they spotted Riley.

The sight of the rise’s sole Blod did not evoke a particularly strong reaction. Masque acknowledged him with a tip of their snout and a woof, though they otherwise paid him no attention as they drifted to the stream and began to drink. As they took care of their thirst, they thought of gathering some of the young Toweards to practice tracking.

When they raised their head and licked their lips, they saw @Avicus across the field. She was looking at Riley, though her gaze swung to Masquerade as the Ulfr straightened. The former Wealda did not approach, offering a nod before she turned and prowled into a nearby cluster of trees.

Masque watched this a little pensively before their marigold eyes cut back to Riley. They considered the way their mother had looked at him just now. A realization struck them: Riley was the only potential match for Avicus, come springtime. Aside from @Reki, they supposed, he was the only male in the pack who wasn’t mated or related.

The thought should have evoked joy in the former and future Caru. But Masque only felt uncertain. Avicus wasn’t the Alpha female any longer, a fact which the yearling found hard to face, much less swallow. It was entirely possible @Lilia or @New Snow—or both—would assert themselves next spring, claiming breeding privileges. One of them may even seize the title of Wealda. Avicus may not have another litter at all.

An elk bugled somewhere in the distance and the Ulfr blinked, realizing they’d gotten quite lost in their thoughts for a moment. Masque snorted, ears splaying awkwardly before they padded closer to Riley. As they approached him, their head and tail both lifted a little, the latter slowly waving.

All tags are for reference! :)

From a distance, Masque’s greeting was short if not perfunctory. Her gaze turned elsewhere. Riley visually traced the direction of her interest, catching only the briefest dart of orange-flame fur.

His mind jolted back to an earlier memory, to Indra. His reverie was short lived as another elk call sounded over the trees, this time sending a legion of small brown birds to wing.

By now Masque had come closer. Her ears were askance in their own awkward angle — Riley had no earthly idea what it was she had just been thinking, but he greeted her with a companionable whuff and low wag of his tail. Masque’s head just perceptively lifted; without thinking, Riley’s posture converted, his head canted lower to signal appeasement.

The Blod’s head ducked. Only then did Masquerade consciously realize their own posture in contrast to his. Their tail continued waving as they pondered how it felt to exert this slight authority over Riley. It felt unusual but not necessarily unnatural. Experimentally, the Ulfr raised their head properly and arched their tail in a much more blatant display of dominance, just to see what he might do.

If he decided to glance upward and meet their eyes in a challenge, he would find them sparkling with curiosity and perhaps some of the mischief from their previous encounter. But before that could even happen, Avicus’s face flashed through their mind’s eye. In truth, the former leader’s expression hadn’t given away anything but Masquerade decided to stir the pot a little further.

Did you see the way my mother looked at you just now? they asked lightly.

Riley had no plans to upend order. A younger Riley might have felt a blaze of indignity to be pressed to show submission — but this Riley, older Riley, was just happy to be fed.

He averted his gaze further, tail stilling to appease her dominance display. Riley might not consider himself naturally submissive — but he knew his order here, and he knew a pack familial as the Rise would have no use for insubordinate outsiders.

He must climb the rung of hierarchy before he sought to topple it.

No. Riley answered, completely unaware. He unfolded himself carefully, wary of any further display. What do you mean?

He didn’t meet their eyes. If anything, Riley’s posture became more deferential. Interesting… Masquerade mused, their heart beating a little faster in their chest for some reason.

But they stayed focused on their teasing, lips curving at the Blod’s evident surprise. He didn’t look uncomfortable, they decided after a momentary assessment. Masquerade decided to keep pressing the issue.

I’m sure she’s thinking of who might sire her next litter, Masque said, and seeing as you’re the only eligible bachelor in the pack at present, I think she might have her sights set on you. They let that dangle for a moment, then shrugged and added, But who knows what might happen by springtime.

The Ulfr took a seat then, arching sideways to raise a hind leg to scratch at an itch behind their left ear. Their eyes never left the Blod, ever curious to see how their words impacted him.

Eligible? Him? Riley’s tension ebbed as Masque took to sitting nearby — but now, he was filled with a different emotion.

His mind thumbed over each face of the pack he’d known. Truthfully, he’d yet to think of the burgeoning season — but now that Masque planted that seed in his head, the cogs started turning. Oh.

Riley could not help glancing Avicus’ away. He frowned, thinking again of Indra. It was very unsexy, having the memory of your murderous aunt resurface during the discussion of future mating plans.

Somehow, he didn’t think the Rise would take kindly to an upstart mating with their established wolves. His gaze trailed back to Masque, but he did not lift his eyes to hers. As she scratched, he fumbled over what to say.

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But you already are. Eloquent as ever.

They smirked a little at his, “Oh.” It was sort of fun, teasing him like this and getting a reaction.

Not me, they reminded him, gesturing toward the tree line where Avicus had vanished, my mother.

They set their foot back on the ground and straightened, beholding the Blod for a moment. It was true, what they’d said: anything could happen over the next few months. Avicus could step up again and take her pick between Reki and Riley, or even mate with both.

You even look like one of the men she chose before, Masque posited. His name was Ashlar. He was our Haelend, our healer. He was very soft-spoken, not the sort of man you’d think she’d like. But they balanced one another…

Ashlar had disappeared shortly after Avicus. She’d been back a while now and he had yet to return. Masquerade wondered if he ever would. It would be quite theatrical if he magically reappeared come springtime.

Have you gotten to know her at all? Perhaps you two would make a good match, though as far as I know, she’s never formally taken a mate. You might have to share.

Perhaps they’d inherited their lack of romantic interest from Avicus, actually, although of course that didn’t explain the rest. They had no clue why the thought of reproduction repelled them so completely. And even though they had no interest in romantic or sexual trysts, it wasn’t as though Masque abhorred intimacy.

If anything, they craved that. They hummed thoughtfully under their breath as they realized just how much they enjoyed Riley’s company. Conversations like this one were so difficult to come by on the rise, much less ones with such intriguing breadth and depth. They only hoped that if Riley did pair up with Avicus, he and Masque could maintain this friendship they’d begun.

Connecting the dots wasn’t a strong suit of Riley’s. He looked back to where Avicus had disappeared as Masque clarified; but if she had picked up on that glance knowingly, did that not mean she was already more forward thinking than him?

As a blue blooded, bona fide man, the prospective of mating was very appealing to Riley. His standards were ‘upright and ventilating’ and that is where the prerequisites ended. So far, no one had ever expressed an interest in intimacy with him, and so, he’d done what any self respecting man would do and found other ways to, well, discretely expend himself.

His skin felt hot against his fur. This wasn’t a conversation he had anticipated, and being inexperienced in the mating department, he felt ill-equipped to counter it.

He hadn’t met Ashlar, and his interactions with Avicus had been threadbare. He shook his head as Masque asked about his history with her mother. I don’t share. Riley responded darkly. There was a possessiveness in his family that boiled in his blood, too. That small detail struck Avicus from Riley’s pool of applicants — not that she truly would have found him riveting company to begin with.

A sensation stirred along his ears and belly. Does everyone share their partners here?

“I don’t share,” Riley insisted, and the plot thickened.

No, Masquerade replied to his question. Augur and New Snow are a mated pair. So are Ancelin and Lilia. I expect they’ll both want litters in the spring too.

Where did that leave their mother? Masquerade couldn’t help but think about it again. Masque was glad she was back, though Avicus simply was not the same wolf as before her disappearance.

Their thoughts spun out from there. Relic and Redd were gone. This year’s quartet would require another year to mature. If the situation didn’t change, there was nobody on the rise who could possibly continue the true Redtail bloodline in the rise next year aside from Avicus.

But Avicus reprising her leadership and motherhood roles felt as uncertain, even unlikely, as their own litter mates returning. Yes, a lot could change by the time spring rolled around, but Masque suddenly found themself confronted by the fact of the matter: they couldn’t depend on anyone else to magically show up.

They took comfort in the thought that all four of their younger siblings showed such incredible promise. Even though @Mulherin hadn’t spoken to them much since their last conversation, Masquerade still dreamed of their brother as a future Alpha. Any of the others had that potential too, though he was undeniably their favorite.

If not this coming year, then the next year, the Redtails would be restored to their former glory…

Sorry, they apologized suddenly, I got lost in my thoughts. Masque huffed. Again.

Masque articulated what Riley was not clever or careful enough to interpret from watching alone. Connecting the little threads here, Riley recognized what she’d said earlier about his bachelor status was firmly cemented. Not that he had any reason to doubt her.

But that meant she too, was an outlier. He couldn’t help a sly gaze her way; she was younger than him, but not so young as to not be of interest. They were a good hunting pair - and their comradeship came with a general ease he didn’t find in most companions.

Besides all of that, Riley was very much in the same boat as the rutting elk whose calls occasionally split the air: testosterone ridden, hungry, and loveless.

For now.

A silence spread between them. Riley felt his own thoughts carry him away too. Finally, when Masque spoke again he was promoted to ask something that had been on his mind. How does that work? Multiple pairs, I mean. The leader doesn’t kick them out? And… aren’t you all related?

Riley didn’t seem to hold their lack of focus against them. Masque flashed him a vaguely sheepish smile of appreciation, though their expression quickly grew thoughtful at his question.

I suppose Augur and New Snow must’ve had my mother’s blessing in the past. I don’t know how it will work in the spring, especially since she’s no longer Wealda…

Saying it out loud gave Masquerade a queer feeling. It was like admitting there was unrest to an outsider, though of course Riley wasn’t one. He wasn’t quite the confidante Mulherin had become to them, though the fact that they could speak to one another this way went a long way toward building a strong sense of camaraderie.

Their bloodline—Augur’s and New Snow’s, I mean—is separate from the Redtails. Ancelin is my cousin but Lilia isn’t related to any of us by blood.

The rise had supported two litters in the past two years, so Masquerade supposed they could do it again next year. In that sense, perhaps it was well and good there were no other breeding pairs. The two established couples could have their litters and all would be well.

Masquerade huffed out a breath and revisited their earlier statement to clarify, Augur is Ulfhedinn, leader of the hunt, and Lilia is the leader of the warriors, Berserkr. Currently, there is no Wealda: leader of all.

It was good they could talk, because Riley would have never understood some of the Rise’s customs without verbal explanation. The ranks Masque ticked off sounded foreign to him, but eventually their concepts made sense.

He came from a family of largely silent wolves too — the irony was lost upon him that both he and the Rise originated from the same wellspring of blood, just at diverging junctions.

Riley hadn’t even noticed Masque had been lost in her thoughts, for he’d shared that moment with her, fighting his own turbulent mind.

For all of the knowledge Masque imparted, Riley absorbed with with a grunt. For a time, he was silent — raking over the morsels of information she’d shared before he finally spoke again.

Why isn’t Avicus leader anymore? And why hasn’t anyone taken her place?

I don’t know, was the only honest answer they could give to both questions.

Before they could urge him to ask him herself, perhaps, another bugle ripped through the air. It sounded a bit closer than the last one. Masquerade sat up perfectly straight, all other thoughts emptying from their head as their ears twitched.

Want to go watch some bullfighting? they queried, catching Riley’s eye.

Riley wasn’t too satisfied with that answer — but before he could press for more information, the keening edge of an elk’s call cut between them.

Like Masque his attention diverted — at least briefly. He studied the direction of the call, noting how it seemed closer now.

Sure. It wasn’t exactly the worst way to spend a morning; watching elk gore themselves to death was as good a pastime as baseball to a cursorial predator. Maybe if we are lucky, we can eat the loser. A grin cracked his usually stoic facade — perhaps the first hint of humor he’d shown to company.

They arched an eyebrow at his response, licking their lips thoughtfully. Although the spars between the stags appeared intense—and involved sharp objects being thrust at high speeds—Masque had yet to see one end in bloodshed. But if that ever did happen, the wolves of the rise would be sure to take advantage.

With an indelicate snort, the Ulfr began loping toward the distant cries. En route, they heard another wail, pitched so high that it threatened to reawaken Masque’s subdued headache. And then came an answering cry from somewhere east of the first. They drew in a sharp breath, heartbeat speeding up as they looked over at Riley. They were going to be just in time to watch a real throwdown, by the sound of it.

But the scene proved anticlimactic when the pair of wolves came upon it. The young would-be challenger spotted the seasoned competition and promptly pivoted, cantering away to avoid expending energy on a fight he felt he couldn’t win. This left the first bull to paw restlessly at the earth, churning the soil underfoot as he tossed his head, putting on a show for no one but the unseen Masque and Riley.

Settling down to see what the stag might do next, Masque whispered to their companion, Why did the challenger leave without a fight, I wonder? He was a little smaller but he looked fairly strong. And this guy’s on the far side of his prime. He probably could’ve taken him, if he’d just tried. They hummed thoughtfully. Or maybe they only go for it if there’s actually something to fight over.

And as far as the Ulfr could see, there were no cows nearby at the present moment. Masquerade chewed on that thought, one ear still twitched in the Blod’s direction in case he had any sage thoughts to share.

Riley’s quip didn’t earn him much more than a raised eyebrow. His grin fell away as Masque loped off in a snort.

Two bugles sounded; both nearby. His ears pricked in their direction as he followed after the fleeting silver of his companion.

The spectacle that ensued was anything but. Riley watched wryly as the young buck turned tail.

Wise, considering.

To his fellow audience, Riley remarked. Experience is more important than strength. That old buck probably has a trick or two up his horns, and has fought more rutting seasons than the young buck has been alive. One slip by the young buck and he could be permanently crippled. He thought of the free meals he’d caught over the years. Bucks in antler lock, starving slowly. Gored bucks dying of infection. Maybe their showdown happens later, when the fair lady appears.

“Experience is more important than strength.”

Masquerade gave Riley a speculative look, then turned to face forward as the older elk trotted away in the opposite direction. Perhaps they should’ve followed one or the other, though the Ulfr sat and pondered the Blod’s words instead.

They folded in his earlier question too. Aside from Avicus herself, there was one wolf who possessed both of those things: Augur. How come he’d never stepped up as Wealda? Masque still thought the leader of leaders should be gifted with speech, though he had proven to be an effective leader regardless. And the Ulfr couldn’t deny that he and New Snow would make a good Alpha pair.

Masque’s thoughts turned to Mulherin. They still thought he was the perfect candidate for future leadership, though he was undeniably very young and inexperienced. Would someone like Riley ever accept Mul as his superior? There was no timeline but it made them wonder if he could benefit from tutelage beyond their own, including the existing leadership’s. Perhaps once they were on proper speaking terms again, Masque would float that idea past him.

Ah, how many times would they have to apologize to their comrade for getting lost in their thoughts? Masquerade looked over at Riley with a light snort and a vaguely sheepish smile.

You gave me a lot of food for thought, they told him, and I had to chew on it a bit. But speaking of cripples, how’s your paw doing these days? Do you think you’re up to a tracking expedition? Masque asked, thinking the two of them could trail one of the bulls.

Once again the pair fell to silence. Riley truly did not mind; it was a comfortable shared camaraderie — she lost in her thousand-mile thoughts, he herding his own as if restless cats fallen in a river.

He started as she spoke again, retrieved from his own thoughts. While they did not quite touch base on the topic of Augur, he had been thinking about his own future in the Rise.

He raised his paw and gave it a half hearted shake. All healed. Though tough ground occasionally stung, Riley would hide it. Let’s go.

He held up the paw in question and shook it, demonstrating that it was now mended. Masquerade’s tail twitched in approval as the two of them readied to head out, their marigold eyes panning ponderously between east and west.

Let’s go after the older fellow, they decided, giving no particular reasons and not waiting for Riley’s approval as they loped away in that direction.

Fade here? :)

Masque glanced from the easterly ridge to the steep west. Riley followed her gaze wordlessly, placing his paw back down in the dirt.

He wondered why the older buck held her interest. To Riley, the creature was hale as could be — he certainly didn’t intend to have those antlers pointed his way.

The clattering of Masque’s footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. With a gentle wave of his tail, Riley turned to follow Masque back up the ridge.