Barrow Fields the oblong box

Before they caught up again, Avicus lunged at the buck’s throat. Masquerade inhaled sharply, feeling a jolt of confusion about their role in this hunt. Were they not meant only to chase it toward the remaining hunters? The bewilderment only grew exponentially when the buck effectively trampled the Wealda.

Masque rushed to their mother. Their ears picked up the noises as the rest of the pack finished the buck, though they did not look anywhere but at Avicus. Their eyes were full of concern and questions, their throat rippling with a whine. Why had she done that? Would she be alright?