Dawnlark Plains currant

Now she truly knew how Masquerade had felt. Redd had thought she might experience relief as she stepped beneath another. Instead the hurt and the shame drove her outward. For the first time in her life she needed true space from her home.

It was not their fault. She tried to know this, but it seemed a part of her had hoped to be wrong. Had wondered if a wolf could be Wealda another way, leading with something apart from pure aggression. She’d never seen it done but her sister had spoken of it once. At least her memory was there, at Redd’s side, in that moment.

Perhaps her heartbreak wasn’t only for Wealda.

Redd drank deeply from the shallow pool before her, then stared across the plains and into the fading light. @Ruckus would have followed her, she knew, and she would do nothing to prevent her silent shadow. His presence was never unwelcome, but today she would track. It was time to begin rebuilding her strength. She would catch nothing fast with her limp, but not all prey was fast.

staying vague with the in-progress thread. Tag is for ref, though you are welcome to join too obv!

Cambria was still processing what he’d witnessed. He supposed it didn’t make a lot of difference to him who led, at least at this point. He hadn’t lived here long enough to form deep bonds or loyalties except to the idea of the pack itself.

Actually, he murmured to himself as he prowled along the foot of the rise, that’s a lie.

There was one member of Redtail Rise to whom he felt connected, though it made little sense. He sought the red runt now, hoping to check on him even if that probably wasn’t what he wanted. Cambria figured he might still be with the red she-wolf and he was of course very curious about her. They ought to meet.

He actually found her first, standing beside a shallow pool. She was looking off into the distance, toward the plains, so Cambria paused and woofed to announce himself. He kept his posture neutral, two-toned eyes trailing curiously over her gaunt frame as he wondered whether she was the red pup’s mother.

Someone approached and Redd turned to appraise them neutrally.  She recognized them as pack but not as anyone familiar.  They must have joined after her departure.

She tried to cast emotion aside.  There was no taste of resentment to it.  This was pure grief, a silent mourning of two loved women whose legacies she’d failed.  This stranger had no place in it but was also pack.  And Redd did not seek to leave the Rise… did she?

She thought of her family still there and the answer was resolute.  No.

Do you hunt?  She asked without preamble, her eyes cutting across him and sizing him up.  He appeared large enough to do so, but size did not always indicate skill.

Wherever Redd went, Ruckus followed. They mimicked her movements, her routes, her glances, her heartbeats, her breathing, her feelings. Ruckus studied the way she held herself, her gait, and the way she looked at the world. And while they would never truly see the world the way she did, Ruckus would certainly try their hardest.

When the blod approached, their reaction and demeanor mirrored Redd's. The bearn looked the other wolf up and down, not really knowing what they were looking for, but playing the part all the same.

Her eyes turned toward him, their color bringing to mind faded sunflowers. Cambria only met them for a beat before averting his own eyes, spotting the youngster lurking in her shadow. She must be his mother, he decided, noting the way the little one emulated her mannerisms.

She spoke and Cambria blinked, mildly startled. His tail stirred then, pleased to meet another wolf who could talk. He was growing more capable in the art of body language, though he still enjoyed a proper conversation when he could get one.

Recovering from his surprise, he replied, Yes, and curled his tongue against the roof of his mouth before he could add, “of course.” I’m much more experienced with small game, he thought to mention, letting out a breath as he briefly recollected the recent group hunt.

His eyes flitted to the runt again, shooting him a small smile that he didn’t expect to be returned. Cambria glanced at the woman’s face again. Who was she? Where had she been? He had so many questions for her, he didn’t know where to start.

He decided on, What’s your name? and included both mother and son with a sweeping glance. I’m Cambria.

Ruckus was acknowledged with silent approval and a guardian’s subtle shift to place herself nearer. She did not move directly between them. He smelled of pack and was therefore no threat. She only closed their distance casually, instinctually, as her protege looked him over in turn.

She had not asked names. They barely felt relevant anymore in the pack that was to come. Wealda was still the response that rose but she killed it before it could start. Redd.

The last time she’d felt Redd, a golden summer had filled her days. Redd had disappeared alongside he and Masquerade. She let the word hang anyway before abruptly turning and flicking her tail in invitation.

She was not Ulfhedinn but saw no reason not to lead. Her attention turned mutely towards searching for a scent and, in brief pauses, waiting for Ruckus to do the same.

Redd's approval was a drug straight to the vein for Ruckus, and they felt a complete and sudden calmness wash over them in that moment. Redd spoke her name, and Ruckus paused. Few had used their name in some time, and it wasn't as though they referred to themself in the third person often. Had they ever? Somewhere, deep in the recesses of their memory, they pulled their name to the front.

Ruckus, they said, again following Redd's lead as they began to search for the scent of prey. They were still far too young to be of use, but they would do anything Redd did. Ruckus was not sure if they liked the idea of this stranger tagging along, but they decided if Redd had invited him, they would accept his presence.

He couldn’t help but think their names suited them. His lips twitched into a faint smile as the two began scenting, little Ruckus mirroring his mother’s every move. Little as he understood the situation, Cambria was glad Redd had returned, for the angry youngster’s sake.

I’m not opposed to hunting larger game, he offered as he, too, began sifting for leads. I could actually use the experience.

What could two—and a half—wolves handle? Cambria wasn’t certain, though he sensed that Redd knew exactly what she was doing. Despite her sickly frame, he sensed she was a natural leader. He would defer to her judgment on the matter.

He walked a little ways behind the pair, his eyes catching on Redd’s tail and wondering suddenly if she was the rise’s namesake. He blinked slowly, a dozen questions crowding the yearling’s brain. He turned them over slowly, trying to decide which to voice first.

Is the rise named after you? Or perhaps vice versa? he queried.

Cambria paused over a pile of droppings only to realize they had long since dried in the summer sun. He huffed out a breath and continued moving, pale ears pricked for the sound of Redd’s voice as his focus shifted between the ground he was sniffing and little Ruckus’s relaxed gait.

Ruckus.  Redd noted the name in silence just as she had Cambria’s, though this with more surprise.  It seemed this one had a voice as well, if also more sense in when to use it.  The pride she felt watching him mimic would do nothing to dispel the incorrect notion Cambria had of their relationship, but she’d already well settled that this one was hers to raise.

He asked the question and she paused, but did not look at him.  No.  The question should not have struck her but for a number of reasons it did.  Wealda.  My mother.  He had never known her as such but the clarification still felt important.  It also felt like an admission.

For once the silence felt thorny and incomplete.  She is gone, but the rise stands.  She added, softer, before turning her attention back to the trails.  Redd did not know if she was up to large game but fiercely she hoped for it.  And so, when a deer’s traces made themselves known, she flicked her tail and set along the path without hesitation.

The voice of the stranger faded into the background as Ruckus focused on the ground ahead of them. Their sense of smell was keen since they needed to rely on it due to their particularly poor eyesight. When Redd paused, so did Ruckus, their ears attentive as she spoke a word they had heard a few times before: wealda, who had been Redd's mother. Again, Ruckus related. Raider was gone, and while they had never called her mother, they knew the sentiment was the same. Raider and Riley were both dead. That was something Ruckus knew with absolute certainty.

They flicked their tail just as Redd did, then began to follow her down the trail. It was not terribly fresh, at least half a day old. Still, Redd knew best, and they would go wherever she led them.

Her answer was cursory, though informative. Perhaps her mother had founded the rise, which prevailed in her absence. Cambria’s lips pursed as he mulled this information between sniffs. Was she gone, like his mother, or gone? Was she perhaps a victim of the malaise which had recently afflicted this pack?

The rise seems like a very resilient pack, he mulled aloud.

Redd and Ruckus struck a trail, so the Blod trotted after them. The scent of deer threaded into his nose, a little stale but still promising. The yearling let out a breath, hoping he was up to whatever task the red she-wolf might put in front of him.

Was Wealda her name? Or her title? he wondered aloud, keeping his voice low.

He knew precious few names, despite living among these wolves for weeks now. There was Mulherin, and now Redd and Ruckus. But Cambria knew the others only by the titles given to him by Berserkr. And ranks could change, he knew now. With a flick of his tail, he wondered if Redd might know know the proper names of Ulfhedinn, his mate and their children.

The question he asked was meaningless.  Avicus, Wealda, mother, was gone and buried now.  Redd pointedly remained on the hunt, only a small flick of her ears revealing that she had heard him speak at all.  Wealda was both name and title.  None but Avicus had ever held it truly and Redd wondered if any ever would.  It was no longer her concern.

She lost the appetite for conversation entirely then, but fortunately, their prey was drawing closer.  Judging by scent it was a young doe.  They might succeed if they took it by surprise, though in a chase she did not think they would outlast it.  Especially if it rejoined others.

Redd slowed as she tried to pinpoint a location and make as little noise as possible.  She glanced to Cambria to see if he recognized what must happen, then to Ruckus to warn the pup to remain back.  The child was smart but fierce.  She would see them learn, but this was not a hunt for them yet.

The other spoke of Redd's mother, asking frivolous questions. Ruckus did not see this talk as useful to the hunt, and so they flicked their ears in the same manner that Redd had. When Redd warned them back, Ruckus paused for a moment, considering resisting her banishment to the sidelines, but they acquiesced to her command. They let their rump drop onto the ground, blue-going-lilac eyes watching the hunt unfold.

She didn’t deign to answer, though Cambria assumed it was because they were drawing closer to their quarry. He took her silence as a cue, falling mum himself but keeping an eye on Redd’s movements. She moved like a four-legged homing missile, paying no attention to the two males whatsoever until she turned to glance at them both.

Her look commanded Ruckus to stay back, right after she shot a soundless inquiry at Cambria. His ears pulled back as he hesitated. He didn’t know what she wanted of him and would require some guidance… unless, of course, he decided to take some initiative and use a little bit of deductive logic.

The yearling stepped closer to Redd, capturing the scent and sussing out details. He identified it as belonging to a young doe. His heart quickened a little and he looked at the she-wolf’s face, trying to read her expression. He’d said he wanted experience, though this seemed like a tall order for a pair of wolves, one of them inexperienced.

He took a breath and squared his shoulders, then returned his attention to the trail. Cambria prowled forward, sensing a need for utmost caution. He remembered the way Ulfhedinn had charged at the caribou, instigating a chase. Would they use a similar tactic here and now?