Sleepy Fox Hollow we don't know what we're doing, but we're standing proud

For any or all of you! <3

Wylla rose when the sky was just beginning to brighten and fog still hung heavy over the water. She slipped away from her cubs and wandered out into the valley, trusting they would sleep a little while longer before anyone would need to be there to watch them.

It didn’t take long to find some voles, but it did take longer than she liked to catch one. The first one, she accidentally killed, so she swallowed it for a snack; the second she managed to snag alive, and it was this that she carried back to the den with her. @Anselm, @Emmerich and @Isa were old enough now, she thought, to have their first taste of the chase.

When she arrived back at the den, she carefully deposited the panicking vole on the ground and pinned it down with a small paw. It twisted and did its best to dig its teeth into her toes, but Wylla ignored it with little more than a grimace. When she was certain she wouldn’t lose her grip on it, she barked once for her cubs to rise and come see what she had brought for them.

Mom’s voice sounded, drawing Emmerich’s attention to where she was. The silver-headed child rose from his sleeping spot and teetered out to where Wylla stood. Her son beamed up at her and wagged his tail until his back end was swaying from side to side. He thought that his mother was impressive in all things, that she was amazing.

The movement at her paw drew his eye for a moment. Emmerich paused in his approach, peering intently at the vole who struggled to escape her clutches. The pup was curious why his mom was holding onto the little thing so tightly. It didn’t appear to be happy about any of the commotion.

Ma! Emmerich yapped, bouncing toward Wylla another few steps. His head tilted curiously at her, expecting she might give him some idea of what they were going to do.

Well, said Wylla to her beaming boy, leaning far forward to give him an affectionate nudge to the top of his head. The vole continued to struggle under her foot. Looks like you're the top student in this class, Emmy!

He came closer and she leaned back her foot just enough to let the vole peek out, rapidly inflating and deflating with the force of its frightened breaths. It's a vole, she told him, a snack. They run fast and disappear in holes in the ground. Quirking her brow with a playful smirk, she peered a challenge down at Emmerich. Think you can catch it?

The top student! Emmerich had no feasible idea what this meant, but the expression on his mom’s face told him all he would need to know. He was the best boy in that moment. The young pup swelled with pride. His tail swayed from side to side rapidly upon receiving his mother’s praise. Any modicum of time that he could spend with Wylla was treasured when there were two other children who sought that attention with equal thirst.

It turned out that there was more to be done than just showing up and being the most handsome, most wonderful son. Wylla spoke about her prize – the squirming little creature who was held in place by her paw – and how it was a tasty snack that could run quickly. A challenge was issued with a daring look in her gaze. Emmerich was invested. He glanced between her features and the vole. His tiny pink tongue slipped out and brushed over his whiskers.

Emmerich nodded his head. Let me show you, mom. Let me show you how good I am.

No words were needed. Wylla could see the glimmer of excitement in her son's eyes. He reminded her very much of Ingram; he had always been eager as well, when they were young. They even looked a little bit alike in the face despite the colour difference, or maybe that was only the result of Wylla's nostalgia. She missed him so much.

Alright, let's see what you got! she said, arching her body low in something like a play bow. The next time Emmerich's eyes dropped from her face to the vole, she snatched her paw away and sent the rodent scurrying. With a whooping laugh, she moved into a quick trot to follow her son on his chase.

She was a little disappointed the others weren't interested, but no matter. They would have their time, and today, Emmerich would have her full attention in this lesson.

The boy’s heart hammered just moments before he glanced down to mother’s paw and watched as she released the squirming little creature from her grip. It hesitated for only a moment before it understood that it was no longer being held there. Once this realization dawned, the vole began to scurry as swiftly as its tiny legs would carry it.

Emmerich was caught by surprise. The boy jolted back, ears pricked to a point, and watched the little animal scramble to flee. When he realized that he would need to chase it, the boy lowered his head toward the ground and bounced toward the vole. It hurried away from him, squeaking fearfully in the face of the boyish threat that loomed over it. Emmerich was not about to be deterred by such a tiny foe.

Barking, the boy jumped after the vole. He tried to pin the creature with his massive paw, but he did not have the coordination to manage such a feat. All the while, the vole tried to find a hole in the ground where it might disappear.

Emmerich’s jump gave the vole a sizable head start, but that was just fine. Wylla was under no illusion that her son would actually catch it. If he managed it, she would be thoroughly impressed.

Her boy streaked after the darting vole and Wylla raced after him, her eye following the rodent’s trajectory through the summer grass. It was only a matter of time before it would find a place to dive for cover. It was tempting to bolt ahead and try to turn it back toward Emmerich, but Wylla knew that would not teach her son anything about his prey.

She followed and watched and did not intervene; there would be more to the lesson if it escaped him.

Escape him it did.

The vole darted and weaved with such expertise that Emmerich could scarcely keep his eyes trained on it. The foliage seemed to blend in with the furry little animal’s coat, concealing it from the hunter that chased in pursuit. With one last dart toward a rotted log, the vole had disappeared into an unknown hole and had left the boy sniffing near the wood with heavy breaths.

When Emmerich could not find the treat, he turned back to his mother with a pitiful face. The young pup slumped before he fell to his butt and whimpered. All of that fun and he hadn’t captured the prize. Emmerich was content to sit and pout, but he wondered if the little creature was merely hiding. After a moment more of sitting on his butt, the boy stood and sniffed again near the log.

The chase came to an end with the vole diving for cover and her son shooting her a piteous look. It was all Wylla could do not to chuckle. She meant well, but she was under no illusions Emmerich would prove to be a hunting prodigy and catch it on his first try.

It could still be there, she told him, sidling up to the log and dropping her nose to sniff alongside him. Sometimes they hide just out of sight to trick you. Whether she was right or wrong, she owed Emmerich a vole for a snack. If this lesson proved fruitless, it would be back to the hunting trails for Wylla.

Try to dig. It might lose its nerve and come back out, she instructed, driving her paw into the soft loam and shoveling a fistful of earth away from the log's base, then looking to Emmerich to do the same.

Emmerich frowned at his mother’s words. He didn’t like being tricked.

Plodding over to where she was, the young boy sniffed at her paws and then shifted to the scent of the vole. It was still difficult for him to get a strong grasp on the smell. He felt overwhelmed by the aroma of everything else, as well. Nothing bad, but quite a lot to take in.

Wylla suggested that he try digging to see if he could frighten the vole back out. Emmerich looked up at her with a small wag of his tail. He did not want to disappoint her. The white-hooded child stuffed his nose in the gap between dirt and wood. He could smell something!

At once, Emmerich’s paws began to churn at the earth, pulling them in great clumps from the ground.

I'm sorry for the wait on this! Maybe we could wrap up soon since it's getting outdated and have a more up-to-date one soon?

Emmerich was undaunted. Wylla saw a lot of herself in him. In her youth, she had been quite the stubborn, proud thing. Giving up wasn't in her blood. That wasn't so true these days — prolonged emotional pain had dampened a lot of Wylla's once fiery spirit — but once upon a time, she had been dauntless, too.

They dug for a short time without success, leaving Wylla to wonder if the vole had indeed escaped. Then she spotted shifting soil near where Emmerich was digging, and out popped their target! Quick! she flagged her son's attention, her muzzle swinging to indicate where the vole was fleeing. There it goes!

No need for apologies! ^^ I would love an updated thread with these two. I’ll whip one up and you can take your time replying. We can fade this out with another reply or close it right where it is.

With mom’s help, Emmerich thought they had a good chance at catching the slippery little vole. Her paws churned out more dirt than he was able. It didn’t stop the boy from digging away at the underside of the prey’s hiding place. His mind was filled with images of the creature attempting to flee again and Emmerich chomping down on it before it could scurry into the grass. He liked the thought of that, and he hoped it would become a reality.

Wylla pointed out motion near his paw. Squirming in the soil. The boy looked down quickly and felt his heart leap into his throat. There it was! The vole had not escaped them, it seemed. Its little head was stuffed deep in the dirt so it didn’t appear that it would see the puppy who lunged for it. Emmerich pulled back with a mouthful of soil and felt the movement of the vole against his tongue.

Mam! Got it, he huffed through his mouthful. Emmerich’s tail waved wildly.

Success! Wylla hadn't really expected Emmerich to catch it, but when he straightened up with the vole writhing in his jaws, she felt a rush of pride. Good boy! she said, waving her tail along with him. Give it a good shake and then let's go show your vater!

That title for Mahler was coming more naturally, whether she noticed or not. When Emmerich had dispatched the vole, she padded over to nudge the underside of her son's jaw and gave him an amiable jostle with her shoulder. You're an even better hunter than me now, she praised, feeling there was some truth in it. Wylla was still something of an amateur herself.

She let Emmerich lead the way to Mahler so he might see his son proudly bearing the vole toward him first, but she was right behind him, smiling still at her boy's success.