Redtail Rise onyx

lmk if i skipped anybody who wants to post!

the adrenaline surges through his veins.

mountain boulder is quick on the defense. he rushes for him once more, jaws flying at him—

he ducks away, the ulfhedinn’s teeth scoring his shoulder. 

whipping around, he drives low and forward with his weight, snapping at the man’s chest.

perhaps there was some annoyance in mountain boulder for why a young wolf already in leadership would fight another.

and yet there was understanding. a redtail had created the rank; redtails had held it. and even now he was proud of night eye's skilled posturing.

to mountain boulder, neither of them should have wealda, and maybe it was for some abstract concept that he fought now.

as night eye snaked in, mountain boulder let the breath heat his skin and the fangs clip into the flesh below his summer coat; he stepped forward into the bite, crowding again, great teeth snapping not only for nape now, but muzzle, face, shoulders.

anger bloomed for red woman. had she not left them to this, they would not need to fight for wealda.

Observation post. Please continue to freely skip MR~

Moon Runner’s amber gaze was fixed on the posturing males and did not stray when Icemelt came to her side.

One ear turned to acknowledge his presence. In her peripheral she could parse the uncertain posture of the Blod. Moon Runner shifted her weight, as if to demonstrate her assuredness as witness.

A small puff of air out her nose.

Watch, the spirit said.

Wise Father and Faraway Shadow began to size one another up. The elder male pushed into the yearling’s space.

On the sideline, Red Wolf quietly meandered away, with Chipmunk at her heels, as a final show of acquiesence. Moon Runner’s eyes briefly broke away to watch them depart…

Now, only two in the gallery remained.

The conflict began to escalate. Neither Ulfhedinn nor Berserkr backed down. Moon Runner’s vote for Wise Father as Wealda did not change. He was the experienced contender who had earned the respect of all. Yet, Moon Runner could not help but quietly admire Farawy Shadow’s strength and conviction as the moonlight made his black fur gleam like polished obsidian.

They exchanged blows, but the violent sounding growls and snarls made the clash appear worse than it was. How long would it continue?

two fighters in the ring, they continue to spar.

for a long while they exchange blows; shoving, grappling and biting.

they are near even for a good duration, but eventually the fatigue cries in his muscles. 

endurance was not his strongsuit—rather it was sheer speed, paired with skill in tracking and chasing. mountain boulder outweighs him with exceeding stamina. 

his opponent’s experienced fangs find an old wound in his shoulder; an achilles heel.

in blind reaction, he bites at the side of the man’s face. his legs buckle, he begins to topple against mountain boulder’s weight.

i thought real hard about this lol please message if not okay <333

well-matched, the burn in mountain boulder's legs, the ache in his spine; these things proclaimed the ardent strength of his younger opponent.

white teeth flashed. night eye caught the huntlead along his cheekbone and laid it open. a weltering of blood sheeted from the slit flesh. its sting should have rejuvenated mountain boulder; he should have shoved the warlord to the ground then, hard, harshly.

but where wolven proclamation should stand in his heart was only emptiness as splayed ear recognized that blood star and the pup were no longer in reach of his senses.

had she not stayed to see the outcome?

he shoved away from night eye; throat afire, a huff scorched through it all the same, a rumble. a wave of his tail.

mountain boulder recognized the might of night eye. they had been well-met. his strength for now was greater, but many years separated he and night eye. 

two sisters had turned from this place. to cast the boy down might assure the same. mountain boulder did not doubt loyalty; he saw only again and again the effects of defeat.

his nostrils flared. the blood had begun to dry. his plume slowly drooped.

wisdom spoke. ambition no longer played in mountain boulder. night eye had drawn blood, and it was to this legacy of red woman that mountain boulder conceded, a savagery that even he did not have.

his mouth stings with a metallic taste, his teeth are smeared a rusty color from blood that is not his own.

mulherin finds his balance once more. surely, he would've been sent sprawling if his opponent had only continued to drive forward. instead, mountain boulder had pulled away.

the two are separated now, he can see mountain boulder's face, pale-white, broken by a streak of crimson. 

a huff, he watches as the man's muscles seem to ease and finally his tail falls.

he is quick to hoist his own tail in the air, still drunk on adrenaline and expectant there would be another round to come.

yet the ulfhedinn does not move to challenge him.

the berserkr remains in this position with his posture rigid, eyes boring holes into the man.

he held onto what felt like victory—instinctually, mostly, still expecting it would be taken back—but his brow is furrowed, questioning,

was this it?

did the ulfhedinn give in?

why?

for the future, for a concept which mountain boulder might not have been able to articulate. his greater strength now might be taken by tomorrow's jaws. the years had scoured his ambition down to protectiveness. in one moment he had wanted wealda and would have held it for the sake of moon runner's surety. 

but it had been for her, for new snow, for flame stalker and the young ones. mountain boulder had seen red woman lead and fall. he had seen the pack almost split over ancelin and ameline; indeed! it had ruined many things. he had been there when blood eyes disappeared and tall man too had faded, twice. and now he had watched blood star walk away with what he knew remained of thorn caller's life in that small child.

for the future. it must be night eye. the final choice: two things was the man named mulherin. he was the redtail who remained. the redtail who had returned and retaken. for red woman's heart in his chest, and mountain boulder responding to that same pulse, the same brutal reminder in microcosm which had given him the much lighter wounds today. it was theirs to earn in blood, and blood had been drawn.

but more than his legacy, night eye had borne the weight of those deaths and those abandonments. he had bound himself to one only to be forgotten for a higher aim; he had sought another and when loss shattered again, he had searched and searched and searched for those missing kith to whom he held a loyalty despite their existence elsewhere. and he had seen this final turning of a sister's back, and still he had stayed; still he had not thrown away this land which had demanded so much in its time.

when the rise shook, mountain boulder had watched night eye falter very little. even now the berserkr might have been prepared for capitulation on this day before moon runner. but that had been before blood star and the child left. now the victory's remnants had soured in his own mouth.

now for what did they fight?

his tail fell finally to his heels. the saliva-slick ears swung backward.

wealda. 

if the teeth came again, if this was too great a concession and no victory at all for the noble young berserkr, then mountain boulder would meet in clashes. he hung there, between the tradition of their bloodsport and the great realization that his challenge had been rote, requisite, while the young man's own had been a forceful reality. night eye had taught his children of their places among the rise; his defense was fierce. his hunting was skilled, his guardianship passionate. if teeth rose against their land, that blood spilled then would be rightful. night eye embodied more of red woman than perhaps any of them had known, but it was the young man's own strength in which mountain boulder saw those pillars of iron, to which he conceded now.

that iron had bound him here; the huntlead knew it for those lacings held him also. did night eye sense some fearless distant thrumming? the boulder's blood shed by fighting teeth had soaked into the land, and now the land sang for the warrior.

Same deal as MR: I just wanted to pop in a quick observation post but you can continue skipping him.

The pup toddled after his caretaker, the two of them departing the scene as if uninterested in its outcome. Cambria gazed after them in abject confusion tinged with dismay, though the sounds of the fight swiftly recaptured his attention. By the next time he thought to glance to the side, they were both long gone.

He stood rigidly beside Treow, his stomach knotted as he watched the Berserkr and Ulfhedinn clash to the point of drawing blood. He found the sight deeply unsettling but the she-wolf at his side appeared unmoved, so he tried to take his cues from her. Nevertheless, Cambria licked his chops and fidgeted, unable to fully repress his apprehension.

Finally, it seemed Ulfhedinn capitulated. Berserkr was quick to assume a dominant posture, declaring his victory. The pale yearling huffed in relief, though so many questions remained. His eyes flicked back and forth between the two opponents, wondering what it all meant and what would happen next.

there was no mistake.

the ulfhedinn gave him a somber look and signaled his concession. something had dawned on him, surely, but he could not tell what it was. he searched, but could not read the emotion behind his yellowed eyes.

mulherin hangs there, tight-lipped, swallowing any uncertainty as he swings around to gauge the reactions of his onlookers with head held high.

his heart feels almost oily in his chest, once he realizes there is nobody in particular he has to look to.

so to all, he offers a wave of his tail; it is done. it is up to them to decide whether they recognized the outcome.

if not, 

redd had left the door still swinging.

wealda ascended in that moment, and the broad shoulders of the hunt-lead relaxed as night eye stepped into the traces once held.

he became aware of the others again, of snow rain and moon runner. the yellow eyes swept them now in some semblance of fatherly pride.

mountain boulder tilted back his head and sang out, as he had done such times before; he sang out for wealda, pouring the song into taiga and valley, loud enough to touch the mountains.

he welcomed the future into which night eye would now lead them.