Redtail Rise landor's cottage

She suspected Mountain Boulder was hunting, but it was clear Red Woman was here for her. Sunday Morning liked Red Woman and was glad to see her there. Red Woman gestures to where her cubs rest; she did not doubt that sooner rather than later, one would rouse upon feeling the chill without her there and investigate. Her gaze searched for any one of their faces, but her ears could hear the chorus of their soft and slow breathing. Still asleep, for now.

Sunday would embrace the quiet for as long as she could. Their energy grew, as did their penchant for adventure. Several seconds or long minutes would do her well. But looking to the den, her tail wagged as Red Woman posed her question. It was something of an answer, even if Sunday did not understand it as much; they brought her joy, and they were growing strong.

The pale once-Blod turns her head back to Red Woman as she speaks more. There is not much that Sunday Morning does understand, but her ears perked to hear Red Woman trip over a word that did sound so close to one of them. Hunt. Her head tilted at the first mention of it, and shifted the other way at the other derivative of it used. By the final time, Sunday Morning felt that was what Red Woman spoke of.

The deep and respectful nod is answered with the lowering of her own head. She darted toward Red Woman long enough to supply grateful and submissive kisses both to the others chin. Sunday Morning moved to press against her leader for a beat with her head before darting nearer to the whelping den once more.

Sunday Morning rumbled contentedly toward the woman. She knew that when she could rejoin the hunt, she would run and hunt with and for Red Woman.