Redtail Rise We are often of greater importance in our own eyes

siblings & anyone allowed in the den welcome

As an orange ray of sunset light filtered in through the Wealda’s den, her fifth child awoke to an internal dinner bell. She started to whine, alerting the surrounding bodies (read: servants) that she required milk, but upon straining to weightlift her wobbling block head, she became aware of a brand new sensation as she opened her eyes for the very first time.

Everything was bleary and nothing made any sort of sense to her, yet she fell abruptly quiet in her attempts to parse out the shadows of movement her peeking face could now detect.

Ashlar came bearing gifts; the larger bones from a hare, big enough to prevent choking but slim enough to grip with small jaws. Once their teeth came it would give them something inanimate to test them on, hopefully to deter from their mother.

He came and gave Avicus breaks as often as needed. He couldn’t nurse them, of course, but he could at least distract while she stretched and had space to herself.

Regardless of if this was one of those times, he approached and got down, making a welcoming sound low in his throat without dropping the gifts just yet. His tail swept behind him as he waited with anticipatory happiness. He wanted to see if they would come to investigate.

His twin had woken him with her incessant demands. In response, he announced his discomfort to whoever was listening, grumbling in annoyance.

However, once he realized somebody was entering the den, the boy went silent as he focused on how to make his way toward them.

He abandoned the side of his littermates; stood on wobbly legs, promptly fell, screamed, then stood again, managing to walk toward the sound of the visitor's voice. The child whimpered and squeaked, demanding some sort of reception or acknowledgement for his hard work.

Small blue eyes tried to make out the face of whoever had been let in.

The muffled rumblings of sound were growing more and more distinct by the day. Fifth could acknowledge the greeting of another caretaker, which was different from the vibrations she knew to be her mother or siblings. Scent too, the greatest weapon in her arsenal, told her that someone was near.

Her twin protested beside her and squirmed away to investigate their guest. She remained still for a moment, blinking owlishly as the light from the denmouth created a halo around their gift-bearing babysitter. Interested in this new shadow, she began to shuffle in his direction as well, not bothering to stand as she army crawled towards the source.

She moved fastest this way, overtaking her stumbling, praise-seeking brother as she instead went straight for the scent of the bones. Food? Her nose lifted. She had come to like the smell of the regurgitated stuff, but this did not exactly smell like that. Fifth dragged herself onto a few of the bones, clumsily sniffing about them and whining when she could not immediately discover their use nor achieve any satisfaction from tasting them.

What is this nonsense? she demanded.

They were loud! Ashlar’s ears stood up in delighted surprise, and he lowered himself to his belly as he watched one of them approach, allowing them to move nearly the full distance so he could refrain from crowding the others.

The healer let out a soft rumble of affection as they got nearer, and was suddenly reminded of last year’s children. They would grow up quickly! Already they were moving so much!

I brought this for you. He said as another came and seemed to investigate it. He didn’t know names just yet. For this. He chewed the end some, allowing his more powerful teeth to pierce through and release the scent of the marrow within.

The classic saga of sibling rivalry.

His twin had somehow beaten him in the race to investigate. Loudly, too. The defeat had frustrated him, so instead he found himself content with learning to balance on unstable legs. He'd made his way over to the grownup one step at a time. Second place wasn't that bad, was it?

Then, the visitor spoke to them. He didn't understand what he said, all he heard was sound—at least he could tell the man was happy to see them. The wheels in his tiny mind were turning, though not very efficiently.

He continued to stare—barely acknowledging the bones—looking up with inquisitive eyes, waiting to see what else the wolf would do after having opened the marrow. All he wished was for some way to sense the world with more clarity, or to reciprocate somehow. Despite his limited knowledge, his heart told him that there were many more experiences to come.

The positive vibrations in the air -- the proverbial "oh look how cute they are" -- only encouraged the twin child's loud behavior. The feedback that emitted from the warm, god-like shadow before her was giving praise, comfort, support. How to elicit more of that response?

Another whimper. Another quivering cry. She pulled out her megaphone and started a chant.

I - want - more! I - want - more!

While her brother politely stared around, pondering about the emerging shapes and scents in their rapidly expanding world, his sister squirmed about, impatient and fussy. Wanting more than she could perceive and frustrated as to how to get what she didn't know she wanted. A conundrum, really.

Only the scent of marrow seemed to creep through to her lizard brain. She quieted down, pudgy nose working as she focused and honed in on the pierced bone like a naked mole rat. But since she was still mostly blind, mostly deaf, and all the way dumb, she succeeded only in repeatedly pushing the "holy" bone further and further away with her clumsy investigation.

They were young for it, without teeth yet to chew. Ashlar noticed this immediately and left it where it was, lowering himself down instead and smiling as he rumbled quiet laughter at his own mistake. Maybe Avicus would take it instead, or in a few weeks they’d enjoy the chewing it provided!

It’s small enough, but you’re smaller still. He reached with his muzzle but didn’t quite touch just yet. He wanted to let them explore him first, and come to him. He probably still smelled of the hunt.

Both wore similar dark brown coats, and Ashlar quietly marveled at that. He hadn’t expected the feeling he’d encounter, recognizing pieces of himself in the pack’s future, but the joy was incomparable. He couldn’t begin to describe what it felt like, each time he saw them, not even to put in a song.

The Bearn made his way closer to his twin, enticed by the low tones made by the man. He was still tired and it took much effort to master the art of balance. Politely, he sat next to her.

He sniffed curiously at the bone, still unsure what to make of it. Without the teeth and coordination needed to gnaw on it, it did little to entertain him—he had little reaction as his sister pushed it away during her fervent examination.

So, when the bone-bringer reached out, he got up and met him, stubby tail wagging as he sniffed his face. He wore a myriad of newness; of lands the boy hadn't yet travelled, creatures from there, and the smells of familiars whose names he was too young to know. Each smell was a puzzle piece to a puzzle he had no clue how to assemble yet. Nonetheless, he held onto each one tightly within his mind. 

wrapping this! <3

One seemed preoccupied, but the other approached him. Ashlar watched, almost afraid to breathe, as the pup boldly came and explored his scent. The Hælend smiled and bent to accommodate. You probably smell ginger. He said softly, waving his tail behind him. He’d fetched some in case Avicus needed it.

Ashlar would stay for a time and entertain them, perhaps coaxing them to play with the bone, perhaps simply singing soft songs and allowing them to explore the new sounds and scents. Either way it would give others a break from watching them and allow him to know something of these children who might be his. He did not care if it was true; he was smitten regardless.