Noctisardor Bypass Is still directed as a drama

Arbiter hated the rain. Though maybe that was too strong of a word for the depth of her feelings. Strongly disliked, maybe. She was also not a fan of the mud it made. Basically, just rain in general meant mess, trouble, extra problems. And it didn't seem to be ending. That was the even worse part. Ugh. For once, the den was a good thing, even if it as starting to become a bit of a mud pit as well, slowly but surely. It wasn't like things had time to dry out.

For a brief while, the clouds had broken, so taking the opportunity, she herded the trio of @Slug, @Grub, and @Beetle out of the den and over to a larger copse of trees where there'd be things to investigate that hadn't been so easily washed away. She let them play a bit (or find a spot for a nap if they so wished to skip the thread) and investigated on her own for some object of interest.

And finding something, she looked back over her shoulder, Come, look at this. It wasn't like the sizable pile of sticks and debris was impossible to find, but she'd overlooked it in the past because of its spot between a tree and a very leggy bush that almost seemed to weave its way through the mound. The home of an industrious little woodrat, now a potential plaything for the curious. It was easier to find the scent of it now, to find the way that it must have run in, and it came with free chewable things for them to try to destroy if they managed to stay focused and get to the tasty center.

Grub wasn't the type to fuss, though she grew more and more restless in the confines of the den. She thrilled for those moments when her parents permitted her to venture outside and play in the rain. She quickly assumed it was just part of the great outdoors: constant wetness. She embraced and enjoyed it so much and silently resented it whenever she was ushered back indoors.

She didn't know about timelines but when Arbiter led the pups afield today, Grub instinctively hoped that was the last time they'd see the den. She was ready to move to a rendezvous site, not that she knew that concept consciously. Grub trailed behind her family members, quiet as always, a little awestruck when she realized the rain had stopped.

The pups' mother moved away and the pale ghost skulked around the copse, nose to the ground as she pored through all the smells. Then Arbiter's voice summoned them again. Grub raised her head and glanced at her brother and sister, then trotted over toward the pile of debris. She looked at it questioningly when the scent struck her.

Nobody had to tell Grub what to do. She had proven her inclination as a huntress from the beginning. Her nose dropped again to comb the soaked earth, before skimming up over the heap of detritus. Her nostrils flared and she snorted quietly as her white tail began to whip back and forth with excitement.

The others are still welcome to join!

She liked seeing the enthusiasm of her pale daughter. A good start, promise that definitely made Arbiter think that perhaps the girl did have quite the bright future ahead. A mighty huntress? Perhaps. But these were the early days. So more like just the foundation for said future.

A brief glance back behind her, but if Slug and Beetle were distracted, that was their loss. Or perhaps their sister's interest would draw them eventually as well. So, back to Grub. Good. Arbiter loitered behind her, watching her progress around the pile, speaking even if she might be talking a few grades beyond her children's understanding, The woodrat is deep inside. It thinks it's safe. But if you try, you can break its home. Even a pup wouldn't fit inside the entrance, and she had her doubts that even if Grub demolished the whole thing and found her prey, she wouldn't be able to kill it on her own quite yet -- for now it was a test of wits and determination.

Arbiter drifted closer, lurking above as she also looked for hints of where the creature's craftsmanship might be failing. It wouldn't fall apart when one metaphorical string was pulled, but several might get things going.

"Good," her mother remarked from somewhere above and behind her. Grub barely paid her any mind, though she did pause when given some guidance. She already knew all that, thanks to her senses. Now it was just a matter of figuring out how to get through the obstacle to the prey hidden inside.

Grub sniffed around the base of the nest, then reared on her hind legs to smell its upper reaches. Her nose brushed along the exterior, instinctively prodding for any points of weakness. There was a spot where the rat's smell was more concentrated than elsewhere; she lingered there, inhaling deeply, her mouth watering. She then began to paw at it, though she was still not as coordinated as she'd like and ended up losing her balance and sliding backward onto her haunches.

When she perceived one of her litter mates drifting nearer, Grub growled sharply. This was not a deer, something that could only be taken down by a coordinated joint effort. This was just a small animal of some sort and, as far as she was concerned, it belonged to her. Warning issued, she grunted and rose back onto her hind legs to begin scrabbling at the weak spot again.

A smirk was painted across her features as she watched Slug figure it out. The drive to hunt, to do things. It boded well. But there were many things that she had yet to learn. This was one of those times, because despite more inquisitive searching about, Slug wasn't quite making the progress needed. So, Arbiter would give things a bit of a nudge in the right direction.

A moment more, just in case. But no. Leverage, was her statement-answer. She leaned forward, delicately grabbing the end of one stick that was within the outer weave of the pile, and waggling it just enough to show how some others moved as well. A smaller twig bounced on down a few inches. Even if she yanked it free, it wouldn't have done too much, but that was why Arbiter had chosen the one she had.

She stepped back again, to give room -- so, what would that do?

"Leverage" was a meaningless word to her, though Arbiter paired it with a demonstration that certainly perpetuated a sense of comprehension. Grub's eyes followed her mother's movements sharply, understanding that the nest could be dismantled one stick at a time, if that's what it took.

Wasting no time, the puppy snatched at another twig in the innumerable weave, yanking it. It didn't come loose. She tugged, the muscles in her neck bunching, but it remained stuck. With a little growl, she grabbed at another. Grub immediately pulled with all her might. This stick came free easily, sending the pup flying back to land hard on her haunches.

At least sticks weren't rocket-propelled. Her daughter tumbled backwards, and leaving Arbiter bemused, ears tipped forward slightly, a slight smirk, but she wouldn't laugh at her. Yet, anyway. It was entertaining, but she wanted her children to try again and succeed so best be encouraging. Or something like that. Unless laughing at them inspired them to do better, but she wasn't quite sure if this particular trio had figured that out about themselves yet.

They tangle. Like a burr in your fur. Yanking the ones that don't move hurt, you take the easy ones or work at those that move a little until they do. She leaned towards the mound again, picking one down towards the bottom where it was unlikely to move, and yanking that. It didn't budge, or if it did, it didn't move nearly as much as the one she had grabbed before.

She sat there blinking for the space of a heartbeat before scrambling back to her feet and snatching the next stick in her teeth. While Arbiter prattled on above her, Grub kept biting and pulling. Some sticks came easily, others not at all. Most took a little tugging before they loosed. Grub growled and slavered as she meticulously deconstructed the rat's nest.

As her prey's scent grew stronger in her nose, Grub couldn't resist rearing onto her hind legs and scrabbling at the nest, hoping to pry loose more sticks that way. It wasn't very successful, so she dropped down again and resumed her tireless yanking, at least until the compulsion overcame her and she reared once more.

This time, something gave. The nest began to collapse beneath her weight. There was a loud squeak, which sent her ears quivering. Grub's snout darted everywhere, trying to sniff out the rat. When it didn't magically appear, she thrust her pale snout into the depression her forelegs had made.

Only then did the wood rat burst out of the wreckage of its safe haven, darting right past the pup.

Arbiter assumed her words got through because her daughter did keep trying, but really she didn't know how much sense was rattling around inside her children's skulls right now -- this trio was different enough from the last that she wasn't entirely sure if she should use her last experience as a benchmark. She really should have stuck around to see her younger siblings, shouldn't she? Naaaah.

Anyway, she'd give the girl some room to work, stepping back a moment to go herd the other two into something that might improve their skills. Encourage a bit of a tussle at the promise of a select treat from the next prey provided to them? The squeak drew her attention back, ears tilting forward as she looked to see what progress had been made. A couple of steps back when the woodrat shot out past Grub.

She was quick to act, pouncing forward at it with a bit of a bark but didn't make an attempt to grab it. They didn't need to catch that particular rat for their survival, so having it as a children's toy sounded like a better solution. It was a good size for Grub... If she could catch it. To a small creature, Arbiter really was some monstrous devil beast, and it spun back and away -- better to take a chance with the smaller monster.

Her mother moved swiftly to cut off the rodent's escape. Grub felt a burst of dismay, certain Arbiter meant to capture her prey. But the adult merely frightened it into doubling back toward the pup. Grub did not expect this and the rat very nearly squeaked past her a second time.

But this time, she reacted quickly enough to at least make an attempt. A paw thrust out, swatting at the wood rat. She felt the slither of its tail whip against her toes before it scurried out of immediate reach. Grub sprang after it with a surprisingly loud, sharp growl.

She was not yet adroit enough to capture such a quick target. The wood rat vanished into the underbrush, leaving Grub tearing through it noisily to no avail. When the rat didn't turn up there, she returned to the dismantled nest and began scrabbling and sniffling. It did not take an experienced hunter to realize the wood rat was no longer in residence.

At length, Grub accepted defeat and looked up at her mother. She couldn't guess how Arbiter might feel about her endeavor. Would she be proud of Grub for trying? Or disappointed in her lack of success? With either one of her parents, really, it was anyone's guess.

Nyooom went the rat with her daughter after it. Her enthusiasm was certainly appreciated, but it wasn't a big surprise when the girl returned solo. They were still young, and as such, the bar wasn't set too high as long as they attempted to reach it, things were good. With a mother like Arbiter, being able to meet one of these goals was difficult to do by definition, but a valiant attempt was ideal. You will learn, and in months ahead, you will able to catch what you chase. And then in a slightly more hushed tone, And you will remember something they will not. A bit of competition did amuse her, as was evident from the slight smirk the thought of it brought. Surely they'd all find their own strengths over time.

Either way, it was time to move on. Enough time was spent here and it was time to move the trio elsewhere, to experience and investigate new things. We go for lunch, was her summons. And a couple of ears pricked up that hadn't been particularly interested before. Arbiter wasn't going to linger, pointing her feet towards the nearest cache and starting to walk in that direction. She would gain an extra two shadows, Grub had better become her third if she wanted a share of the best cuts.