Fox's Glade cadet

Redd did not know where they would go next.

The creek lands made the most sense, but as she’d considered the strong claim they held, something drew her past it.  To be one of many would be simple.  But it would not be home.

With each new journey she had found a new truth.  She thought again of the mountain, considered it.  Then of the rise.  Was it a mistake, to wish to go back?

She had only @Ruckus to follow.  His company was enough, and with her newfound strength she could provide and teach.  But she wanted more for them both, and the wolves she met so far all bore established homes.  She would not know how to draw them forth, nor did she know what would make such an offer worth the risk.  She did not want to build if she was building alone.

Redd paused as she stepped into the glade, listening carefully for any others nearby.  The caribou did not move this far as of yet.  She at least knew she had left their followers behind.

Ruckus had found rhythm in their life. The cycle went something like this: join a pack, meet one or two others who were part of it, depart, travel awhile, and then begin the process over again. Once, they had rejoined the same pack over again (the rise). They did not know what would come next, but there was a constant in their life that they were acutely attuned to: Redd.

Where she went, Ruckus followed. They learned by observation and whatever lessons Red taught intentionally. They were still small and gaunt for their age, though the past few weeks with the caribou pack had allowed them to gain at least a few pounds. Their features were still youthful in many ways, and it was clear now that no amount of time would change that. They would remain, at least physically, somewhat childish.

Cold began to settle in the air, and their coat struggled to keep the heat-sucking wind from their skin. They followed their guardian dutifully, their head in line with her shoulder.

While winter would surely cut her scouting back to a minimum, she felt some freedom to resume her practice now that the Valley had several capable guardians to take over when she ranged past the sentry stone and out into the meadow. She would be back by nightfall, she decided- gather the others and hunt in the hour just after the sun fell. 

Nose lowered, she moved through the meadow, heading North with the intention of getting as far as the lake where migratory ducks and geese often stopped on their long journey. The wind bent the drying grasses, carrying with it the scent of the wolves of Kvarsheim from the East; they were likely due a visit sometime soon. A murmuration of starlings bunched, expanded, and twisted overhead as she entered the glade. Their chattering followed her as the cloud of birds settled into the branches of the trees for a break. 

She nosed about, disinterested in the set of fox tracks she had found. She searched instead for the scent of prey, for wanderers, and had nearly declared the glade an uneventful stop in her range until she happened upon two sets of tracks- and found one of them to be familiar. 

She paused and lifted her head, to see if she could spot the mahogany-pointed woman was within sight. Her tracks were fresh, her scent strong; she'd passed through that very spot only moments ago. 

She paused to reflect for a moment, wondering how Redd might receive her and found herself pondering a multitude of potential outcomes. Her curiosity might come back to haunt her, but she pursued the tracks nonetheless at a jog.