Redtail Rise the second coming

tagging @Moon Runner for visibility for formation thread (and free to join), AW

red dusk walks the border at first light.

the rise falls away beneath him in quiet slopes and old paths, firescarred trunks giving way to new green. scent lines mark where the land ends and the world presses back. he reads them all. stranger. prey. wind.

the wealda’s presence settles heavy in his chest, not as worry, but as purpose. this ground must hold. she must be kept from harm. the rise cannot afford fracture again.

he stops often, nose lifting, ears tipping to the far edges where the taiga waits. nothing moves that should not. still, he watches.

red dusk presses his pads into the soil and moves on, sealing the border with scent and memory.

her scent is first visible on the wind before she is. crimson-coated white-pelted woman lingering at the edges of the rise, her nose inhaling deep breaths of the gathering scent of wolves.

a throaty rumble from her as she acknowledges the presence of them. sivaak walks the border until she grows brave enough to cross, hackles prickling and tail flagging with a dominance that is natural of her.

she desired a battle. what better way to provoke one than to trespass on a culturing territory?

the muradoii bitch trails just a few feet across the border line, walking the length of it. until a ruddy male appears in the distance and she bellows to him, wafting her tail and her strong scent.

---

Oh snap!

A glimmer of alpenglow brightened the sky behind Frostfire Ridge.

Moon Runner walked in the agouti wolf’s path and followed his large pawprints through the drifts of snow. It took her to the borders beyond the Flats, where he was surely on patrol.

Like Dark Spine, his presence centered her. A faithful comrade with a wild soul.

Her spirit thought of Ice Melt. Of Faraway Shadow.

Would he court her with the melting snow? Would they, together, bring new life to the Rise?

The image in her spirit’s mind was abruptly ended when a powerful scent met Moon Runner’s nose. Another mature female.

Her lope hastened. There, just ahead, was her pack mate… and in the distance was a white wolf stained with red.

Unlike the Storm Cloud wolf... she wasn’t a loner persueing prey. The stiffness of her gait and upright posture were a flagrant, dominant signs. She marched accross the border with purpose.

Moon Runner could feel the hair along her back lift from neck-to-tail. She could sense one of life’s threshholds lay before her… and she must walk across it.

Wealda! her spirit chanted. Wealda!

Moon Runner’s white tail waved stiffly.

Everything is at stake! the spirit exclaimed. You must protect it!

Moon Runner’s lips curled as she brushed against the agouti male.

A bellowing snarl. Leave! her spirit demanded.

coming to bully my own toon because i enjoy the concept that DS, MR and RD are like the three musketeers at the moment :p LOL!

---

nowkē is shed in the fragmenting colors of soft red when dusk arrives.

it is not uncommon to find him patrolling the rise. he is a young busy body, devoting his time to walking and running the many newborn desire paths he has began to carve for himself.

his trek through snow ends abruptly when he senses a stir. pale guard hairs at his withers rising upwards like donning venomous quills, the yearling both figuratively and literally smells trouble.

it is followed by the scent of red dusk and wealda.

he arrives only moments after moon runner does, ears perked to catch the sound of her vicious snarl in the coming distance. the way the young guardian flags his tail upwards and curls his lips back in a snarl is immediate.

squaring himself upon a jutting ledge of rock surface only a few feet behind the intruder.

red dusk moves before the thought is finished.

the foreign scent hits sharp and heavy on the wind and his body answers it without pause. he steps in close to white feather’s side, shoulder set firm beside hers, rusted bulk a wall of muscle and intent. his tail lifts high, stiff and unmistakable.

claimed.

the intruding female crosses the line and his lips pull back just enough to show the truth of him. not rage. certainty. the ptarmigan feathers at his nape bristle as his chest expands and a low call rolls out of him, carried deep and wide across the border.

this land is not yours.

he does not leave white feather’s flank. his eyes never leave the crimson and white form testing the edge of the rise. dark spine’s presence settles behind them, dark spine’s snarl sharp at their backs, and the shape of the pack closes clean and solid.

red dusk plants his paws into the snow and burn-scarred earth alike.

one more step, and the rise will answer.

The three wolves stood abreast, united against the bloodied intruder.

Alone, Moon Runner would not have been able to best the titantic female. As a yearling wolf she might have retreated to protect her life. Yet, she now stood as Wealda — and with that claim came the will to freely bleed in order to defend their home.

But she did not have to face this threat by herself. The bonds between the trio had been already set hard and fast… and not even a request — a single word — was spoken between them! Together, their strength tripled… and that was the power of pack.

It was this dominant front that bested the nerves of the aggressive vagrant. She retreated into the plains beyond.

For a long few minutes Moon Runner stood statuesque. The adrenaline boiled hot in her veins.

Only after a while did her stare break away and turn to Winter Hawk.

Her amber eyes met the wolfish gold of his gaze — and in that moment her spirit saw the name he held for her in his soul… and thought of herself as White Feather.

red dusk moves with them until the plains take her.

his bark carries once, deep and cutting, and the vagrant breaks. her retreat is fast and widening, scent thinning with distance. the border holds.

but dark spine surges forward, anger sharp and pulling him farther than the rise should allow. red dusk turns on him at once. he steps hard into the boy’s path, shoulder barring, tail high and rigid.

enough.

but the boy does not listen. he barrels forward. and red dusk— he does not chase further. his body stays angled back toward white feather, eyes flicking to where she stands alone now that the threat has passed. the rise needs holding more than pursuit.

tied in the best i could with dark spine's disappearance!

Perfect! Last from me, feel free to wrap up!~

Like the flames that once burned the Rise, White Feather watched Dark Spine’s spirit fill with fire as he broke the line to pursue their adversary. Not even the might of the red timber wolf could break him from this path — a path that would lead the youth away from Redtail Rise, never to be seen again.

White Feather did not join in this chase. She watched with an austere gaze and felt this was Dark Spine’s lesson to learn… but this sentiment would later fill her wild spirit with regret. First to join her, first to derpart…

She huffed a sigh and stamped the ground with a paw. Then, she loped toward her pack mate with the intention to begin a patrol and mark the borders anew. Let no others be so unwise as to challenge their might.

red dusk falls in beside white feather without a word.

they move back toward the heart together, steps measured, the rise settling around them again. he stays close until the paths grow familiar and the scent of pack thickens, until he knows she is not alone.

then he slows.

his head turns once toward the plains where dark spine vanished. his tail lifts and stills, resolve set quiet and firm. he presses his muzzle briefly to white feather’s shoulder. reassurance. promise.

i will search.

red dusk turns from the heart of the rise and takes the trail alone.