Morningside Cuesta ouska

Anselm’s fur quilled outward. Was she criticizing him and accusing him of running from a wolf the size of a boulder? He could not tell. He was not gracious enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. 

Vhatever. He should have known she’d answer his rhetorical question with a kindergarten-level allegory; really, it was his fault for asking questions he didn’t want answers to. 

I’m going for a valk. He announced, though all that remained of the group was Fiona. Anselm purposely made in the opposite direction at a heavy clip.