Snowforest Taiga dax

hope this is ok to make a private thread. <3

They followed @Redd. Ever since she had come into their life, they had felt something between the two of them. Ruckus was—for lack of a better word—obsessed with her. If they were mature and intelligent enough, they might have been able to figure out why that was, but for now, it just was. The two of them had left the rise, and now the two of them traveled together. Where they were going, Ruckus did not know. They only cared that this time, Redd had called for them first.

Whatever relationships others might have thought they had with Ruckus dissipated the moment they stepped away from Redtail Rise's borders. The others were forgotten swiftly, and their eyes followed Redd wherever they went. Whenever she needed to go somewhere without Ruckus, the child felt as if needles were being stuck into their eyes, but they allowed it. And why wouldn't they? They would do anything Redd asked, even if it meant anguish.

When their legs ached, they did not complain or slow their pace. When their stomach rumbled for food, they said nothing. When they felt they could no longer go on, they just did. Even with their meager diet, their body began to try and grow. Their eyes were nearly their full adult color now: an echo of some long-forgotten heritage.

absolutely! <3

Thin, injured, and now alone.  She was not the ideal caretaker for the child but Redd refused to be cowed.  Their loyalty to her inspired a protectiveness that ignored better sense.  She had not been willing to leave the rise without them.

But they had left.  What came next was unknown.

Initially she focused on survival.  Redd kept Ruckus close when possible, separating only enough to allow them to observe the hunt.  They would need to learn quickly as the weather grew colder.  Quicker still if separation happened; there was no pack to defend should she fall.  Naturally she accepted this as a possibility, considering her own potential mortality with the same detachment that she observed potential weather.

Today there was only a squirrel.  Redd tore off a smaller section, then dropped the larger before her charge.  There would be more kills; she was not growing.  She only needed to sate the edge of her hunger for now.  Eventually she knew that larger prey would become more and more a necessity.

Without Redd, they would have withered away into nothingness. They trusted nobody but her, and it felt as though that would never change. Who else was there to trust? Ruckus watched her hunt (as well as they could), their sinewy muscles tensing at the same moment hers did when she went for each small kill. Everything she did, they observed and copied to the best of their ability. They ate when she ate, drank when she drank, and slept when she slept. Redd became their world.

They noted the way she gave them the larger pieces of some kills. On some level, they knew that their body wished to grow. If Redd wished it, they would heed her command. They tore at the squirrel, rich organ meat and blood—the best parts—flooding their mouth. They did not find particular pleasure in eating, but it was something that allowed them to continue life with Redd. Bits of bone and skin began to mix in with the rest, and when they were finished, only the bushy tail of the creature remained. It held very little in the way of nutrition, and they were not a sentimental being, so they left it where it lay.

Their belly was not so much full as it was momentarily quelled of hunger. Hunger was the norm, and this vaguely content sensation never felt quite right. They licked the last remnants of blood and muscle from their lips, then looked with blurred vision to Redd for their next move.

They had time to rest.  She was urgent in her need to leave the rise behind, but not so urgent that she would endanger them terribly in the process.  Redd settled herself as they finished, approving of the fact that they had eaten it entirely.

Beyond providing the necessities, Redd did not know anything about raising a child.  She had learned by observing and assumed that Ruckus would do this as well.  Soon she would do as her own mother had done; allow them the chance to take the kill in her stead.

Until one came along she could trust, they did not need pack.  

Redd sighed, resting her head on her forelegs, though her eyes remained watchful and her ears erect.

Ruckus listened to the sounds of their guardian, then watched her subtle movements as she watched the world. They did not attempt to get closer or further away, but they settled back all the same into a down, resting their own head on their own forelegs to mirror Redd. Whatever was to come of the pair, Ruckus could not even begin to imagine. They could only watch and wait, watch and wait, watch and wait...