Redtail Rise brighter than the sun

She had always had an unnatural fascination with fire. Leaping, dancing heat and light in its purest form, consuming all that it crossed, unstoppable and uncontrollable. Sienna envied it as much as she feared its burning touch. To be an all-devouring chaos, to be so swift and shapeless—

How could she not?

It was no surprise, then, she was drawn to the Rise. On this side of the burbling river, purple stands of fireweed grew tall around her. Blackened trunks loomed over the blooming life. Among the flowers, saplings were already taking root—but for now, this place was still clearly flame-touched.

Sienna sat down on a rock, head held high and proud. All that was missing was the sun: hidden by clouds, she nearly would’ve welcomed its rays on her russet coat. As it was, however, the warmth of summer of was becoming enough that she was glad of the shade.

With no one around to judge, she peered down from her perch like a queen observing her subjects. Somewhere across this landscape was her birthright. Her parents, and whatever they’d left behind. Hopefully it was something worthwhile.

After a few more days trundling along the coast, Bushtit heads inland from Blackbeak Bluff and comes across a ravine. He spends a day exploring it before climbing out its far side and checking out the marsh next door. His symptoms still plague him, so he tries to find some of the plants Kirain showed him.

He finds something that looks like sage. He nibbles at the leaves, which taste absolutely awful. He’s glad he only ingested a little when the stomach pains hit him a little while later. He squats and evacuates his bowels in a spectacular fashion, though at least the nausea passes after that.

He ventures toward a prominence a little to the north, keen to fill his empty stomach and then catch a few winks. Bushtit scouts around its foot, where he comes across the scent of a she-wolf. It’s so fresh, he impulsively begins tracking it. It leads him upward along a rocky path until, ahead, he spots a figure perched on an outcropping.

Her red fur stands out against the drab backdrop of stone. Bushtit strides closer with a friendly woof, dark eyes taking in the small, scruffy stranger. She’s pretty despite her slight dishevelment. The young Redhawk gives her one of his trademark charming grins.

Heya! What’re we looking at—oooh, he remarks as he moves to join her, the taiga sprawling below them.

Sienna, from her grand perch, was unlikely to be taken unawares. Still, the other yearling’s scent preceded him. There was something…off. Maybe he was sick. Sienna wrinkled her nose, debating whether she should try and slip away.

Alas, he noticed her too soon. In any case, she didn’t really feel like moving anyway. He seemed younger than her, and he wasn’t all that big; she reckoned she could simply shove him off the cliff if he annoyed her too much. She didn’t return his smile, but upon his noticing the view, she nodded knowingly.

You can see almost the whole empire from here, Sienna drawled. The empire of what, she had no idea, but it sounded more exciting than simply saying forest. This rock would make a nice throne.

I’m Sienna. Who are you?

Empire? he echoes, laughing when she mentions a throne as well. I didn’t realize I’d be bumping into a queen today or I would’ve, like, found a pine cone and brushed my hair. And my teeth.

His tail twitches as she offers a name. The name suits her. Something about her demeanor reminds him of someone, though he can’t place who. Bushtit catches her icy gaze for a heartbeat before he glances back to the panoramic view. That’s when it hits him: she reminds him of Zephyra.

Bushtit, he offers, remembering how wrongfooted he had felt around the grayish girl—around any women, actually. Redhawk, he adds, in case it might mean anything to her.

Women—young or old—don’t make him feel awkward anymore. He laughs through his nose as he realizes just far he’s come since those days. It also makes him think of his older sister. He should swing by the valley, see how she, Tvar and their littles are getting along.

Stowing that thought, he focuses on Sienna and wonders, You thinking of claiming the place?

He looks around, noting some of the telltale signs of a long-ago fire, similar to The Sentinels. Maybe like Solenya and Kirain, Sienna has chosen this site of revival to make a fresh start of some kind.