Redtail Rise daffodil

Moon Runner felt good these days.

The days grew longer. The air was warmer. Snow, less frequent.

Her body was strong. Capable.

The Rise had settled into a new routine. Rolling Thunder and Blood Spot had not returned. The juveniles grew and proved their mettle. Moon Runner hunted for her pack.

Successful, she brought a fresh gamebird to Mother. Then, fatigued and feeling frisky, the young wolf found a patch of slushy snow and began to roll in it.

Too much time had passed Carrion by. Too easily.

Repeated parental abandonment left her indifferent to the comings and goings of others. She knew she would remain. She was fine with it just being her and Rotgut, but she was often reminded of the other wolves — her siblings and packmates. At some point, she decided in was in her best interest to stop being so passive.

For now, anyway.

Just a brown smudge peeking from the treeline, she watched the oscillating daughter of Snow Mother and waited until Swooping Cloud was thoroughly lumped up with slush before making her approach. She slithered out into the open on her belly, yipping for the girl's attention.

Moon Runner sent up clumps of spring slush as she rolled and wiggled from side to side, animated and jolly.

It was then Vulture emerged from her hiding spot, more puddle than wolf, as she ebbed close. Her voice caught Moon Runner’s attention the girl she looked, upside down and feet in the air, at her cohort.

Arrooooruuuruuuu, Moon Runner grunted happily. Her creamy fur was wet and sloppy, but the snow’s coolness felt good against her skin. Her tail thumped against the ground.

Join me! The spirit called.