Phoenix Maplewood rufous

set while they travel <3

As the leaves spiraled around her, Redd chased them, snapping with delight at the crimson and golden stars as they twirled towards the ground.  Despite the weariness of their travel thus far, her belly was full and her spirits were high.  Her leg had stiffened in the recovery from the injuries she’d sustained.  She meant to stretch it.

And stretch she did.  Taking off, she ran full-tilt through the trees, then skidded to a stop amidst filtered sunlight.  

With a satisfied huff she stopped to roll in the leaves and the sun, still snapping at the occasional drifting target.  The restlessness that took her had no source.  Suffused, she was beginning to remember what joy felt like.

Ridgeback found himself bristling more, since he’d been given his new name. He wished the fur along his spine would simply stand on end, and had begun to wonder if there was some way to force the fur to stay up. He abandoned the thought of having tree sap sticking clumps of fur together; his wife would surely regret naming him that if he made it his entire personality. 

And who knows; if names changed as easily as they seemed to with the Saatsine, then he might be renamed Treehugger or Sapsmuggler or something along those lines. 

Nevertheless- his fur would stand on end when he heard a sudden rushing, rustling sound nearby in the Maplewood. Nothing was quiet here- not this time of year, with the red and yellow leaves so crisp underfoot. What sounded like a struggle caught his attention and he prowled through the forest until he caught sight of a wolf, who had seemingly borrowed the autumn leaf colours for her pelt, rolling happily on the ground.

Ou! He exclaimed, before he could help himself, and immediately he recoiled for having spoken so loudly. He grinned in apology. You, uh, find a good smell? He wanted to know what it was- scent collecting was always such happy business.

Someone approached.  Redd froze, still flat on her back, before twisting to see who it was.  The moment she recognized them as a fellow Saatsine wolf, she grinned, playfully rolling her shoulders among the leaves.

It was not only the scent!  The feel, the sound.  All of it was a celebration of the turning of the season.  She could not explain this, so instead she gave a light bark of invitation.  

Playfully encouraging, she shifted sideways, leaf litter sticking to her pelt in all sorts of places.  There was no dignity here, but freedom rarely had this.

Glee drew him in like a scented lure on a fishing line. Tail low and swinging he moved forward and into the crunching of autumn leaves, chuffing a couple breaths to convey his excitement. 

Once she pulled over onto her side he approached, a dog hungry for the scent that would trigger the reaction and there it was- just the scent of decaying leaf litter was enough. He turned his head and dipped his shoulder down, and snake the rest of himself to the ground in a manner that was hardly graceful at all, and moaned softly as he shimmied his back against the ground.