Redtail Rise eulalie

can we bump this back to like. . .10 days or so ago? :)

the guilt of not only failing to bring her nephew back but effectively driving him away had gnawed at her. most other wolves, she wouldn't have cared. but now Aventus had to engage in a search for not only his missing wife but now his defector son.

and there isn't a thing she could do about it.

lost in thought, today she's stumbled upon a groundhog burrow in the depths of their woodland, sheltered from the cold, howling winds upon the plains. thinking of @Masquerade's answer at her meeting with the Toweards, she calls for her daughter, voice not urgent but summoning nonetheless.

perhaps hunting with Masquerade will take her mind off all the strife. even if not, it's providing something for her pack, of whom she can't shake the feeling that she's failed them completely, in many respects.

I was just gonna ask for a mother/daughter thread! That works for me, can we timestamp it for my thread log? :D

Masquerade nearly bent in half to nibble at an itch just past her rib cage. Once she had appeased the tingling flesh, she smoothed her fur with her tongue and then straightened. She arched her head and her spine, her whole body vibrating as her muscles stretched. She then flowed onto all fours, raising a hind leg to take care of another itch behind her ear before giving herself a bodily shake.

Thus she was limbered when her mother’s summons reached her ears. The Toweard immediately hastened toward the call, her lithe paws carrying her deep into the woods. The trees were now bare, a carpet of leaves scattered on the forest floor. It made stealth much more difficult, a challenge she enjoyed. But right now, she paid the crunching no heed, simply trying to get to the Wealda in a timely fashion.

When she found her mother, Masquerade greeted Avicus with lowered head and tail. She bumped her burgundy snout beneath the Alpha female’s chin, then retreated a few steps, curious why she had been singled out today.

Masquerade is obedient and comes quickly; she always does. she accepts the greeting and gives one of her own, a few quick licks upon the crown of her daughter's head, smoothing out any tousled bits of hair there before pulling back to look at the young woman.

for a woman she is. . .girl hardly much longer. they're nearly of like height and weight.

look, she says, pointing her muzzle toward the large hole in the forest clearing, a dusty brown around it in stark contrast to the fallen leaves. prey. when one hole, ano'hher.

she lifts her nose and sniffs, audibly. wha' you 'hhink? Avicus asks, wondering if her daughter will take the lead or if she will remain reticent and contigent upon orders.

Avicus instructed her to look, so she did. She studied the hole as her mother offered a brief explanation, then posed a question. Masquerade glanced back at her, then padded closer to the hole to inspect it properly. Her nose combed over the cold earth, soft snuffling sounds escaping her as she assessed.

After several minutes, she lifted her head and looked to the Wealda to report, I don’t know what they’re called but there’s two, maybe three. Masque paused thoughtfully, dropping her head for a final sniff. One male, two females. All healthy.

Standing upright again, her tail waved as she regarded the hole, then her dam. Masquerade wondered if Avicus meant to hunt them. By now, she was quite adept at stalking prey—the larger the better, though she often tracked smaller animals too—but when it came to catching anything, well…

an unmistakable note of pride lights her eyes as she stares back at her daughter, correctly noting the animals within the burrow. Avicus gives a nod, then cocks her chin toward somewhere over the girl's shoulder.

'hhwo holes, she replies, bouncing her head twice, once on each word, to indicate the number. or more. i fine' ohh'her. you here, waihh' for 'em come ouhh'.

with that last command, she gestures toward the open maw of the groundhog den.

then, she leaves, muzzle low to the ground, looking for the other opening. she spends some time scenting, meandering, before a smaller—but still distinct—hole catches her attention. nothing of import, saves it smells of the beast.

she begins to dig at it, snout pushing forward, claws aching slightly against the frozen ground. vibrations against her cheek signify something—and she hopes it is the creatures panicking, rushing for safety elsewhere.

elsewhere as in Masquerade's mouth, she hopes.

“Two holes,” Avicus said and Masquerade immediately began searching for the other, though her mother had more to say. She would find the additional one. She instructed her daughter to wait.

Masque had never done this before, though she intuited that the Wealda would flush them out somehow, leaving her to catch them. She breathed in sharply, trying to prepare herself. She crouched near the first hole, constantly fighting the urge to track Avicus’s progress and instead keep her focus honed on the hole.

Her eyes snapped upward when she heard the Wealda digging, then quickly fell back to her own dugout. Her hindquarters lifted slightly, Masque dipping forward in preparation to pounce whatever exited. She bit back a whine of excitement when she definitely heard scurrying underground.

A creature emerged so suddenly that Masquerade didn’t even clock its size or the color of its pelt. She struck like a rattlesnake, her aim very imprecise but nonetheless hitting her target. Her teeth dug into flesh and fur as the groundhog began writhing with surprisingly ferocious force.

The Toweard backpedaled rapidly, dragging it out of the hole. Her mouth had closed over its shoulder, leaving the rodent’s blunt snout free to sink its overgrown teeth into the side of her face.

a familiar rustling sound, muffled squeals; she looks up with dirtied muzzle and sees Masquerade ahead, wrestling with a groundhog. Avicus winces at the groundhog's scoring of her daughter's muzzle but does not yet move. it isn't serious. . .

break ihh' neck! she calls out. it's perhaps unnecessary, though, for Masque is a fairly experienced hunter—

a brown blur in her periphery distracts, and Avicus surges after another groundhog, escaped from an auxiliary hole and running for the hills. her lithe, ruddy form bears down upon the creature, forgetting everything in the moment but the hunt, hoping to chase the creature down.

her outstretched paws skim its backside but she falls short, cursing.

Avicus whips round, intending to help Masque with her own—hopefully—successful quarry.

rolled a failure on the running prey!

I liked the idea of rolling so I stole it. :)

The instant teeth sank into the thin skin of her cheekbone, she let out an involuntarily yelp and whipped her head forcefully, trying to break the groundhog’s hold. She succeeded, flinging it several yards. In the space of a breath, Masque tried to correct her mistake, but it was too late. The wounded woodchuck scurried back down into its burrow.

She huffed a breath, the bite mark on her face smarting. Masque’s tongue snaked out as if to lick it but it didn’t quite reach. Slowly, she turned to locate Avicus, her head and eyes both quickly dropping in defeat. Masquerade knew many hunts failed, yet it didn’t make it any easier to disappoint the Wealda’s expectations.

she's already beating herself up; she doesn't have the bandwith to chastise Masquerade, as well. still, she's a little put out at the other quarry's retreat, and thinks that—

dhey. . .'hhcared, Avicus explains, shaking her head. won' come back ouhh'. nohh' now. maybe la'her.

Avicus bumps her shoulder against her daughter's, trying to reassure the girl. once upon a time, she might have been austere, silently disapproving from afar. the hands-on approach of Ashlar and Prophet have taught her differently. 

the young'uns need support. especially from her.

we 'hhhriedh, she says, with a shrug, giving a wry glance toward Masquerade and padding along. wha' you 'hhink we 'hhouldh'do now?

Avicus told her what she already knew: the prey wouldn’t resurface for many hours now, wary of the wolves lurking outside their doors. She hung her head a little more, though the Wealda didn’t sound too put out about it. She did press Masquerade about what they should do now, though.

Raising her head to glance at her mother’s face out of the corner of her eye, she said, Could we try tracking something larger, like deer? She was about to throw in her usual disclaimer about observing versus hunting but instead she found herself saying, Maybe we could find @Relic and @Redd, and even try going for one?

Her heart began to beat harder. Her confidence in herself and her skills grew a little every day, yet she had so much to prove. And this was Avicus, who was not only her mother but the queen. Masquerade wanted very much to establish herself as a hunter and just hoped she wasn’t literally biting off more than she could chew with her suggestion.

fading this out for something more current! <3

her ears perk high at Masquerade's suggestion, and she can't help but let loose a wolfish grin. she's very proud of her daughter, of the instincts she hones so well, and gives a fervent nod, buzzing despite the failed hunt on the groundhogs.

call 'em, Avicus says. we will hunn' dheer.

successful or not, they will be together. and with the blood of hunters in their veins, she doubts they will be unsuccessful for long.

she jerks her muzzle toward the sky, then flashes her eyes at the girl, commanding her to summon the troops, as it were.

Alright! :)

Avicus not only approved of the suggestion, she did so with evident enthusiasm and pride. This reaction bolstered the juvenile’s confidence and fed into her excitement. They were really going to do this!

Masquerade promptly did her dam’s bidding, calling for her litter mates. Masque knew that Avicus’s experience wouldn’t fully counter the three pups’ inexperience. The hunt probably wouldn’t end in a kill. But it would be excellent practice, particularly working on coordinating with one another.