Wild Berry Meadow electric fences and guns

Quick cameo with permission :)

On the borders again, the boy found where another head had been laying. It was gone now; fresh tracks lead away from the borders and naught but a stinking and discolored dent in the snow. Euron huffed and set out at an indignant march for several paces before he slipped into a stealthy forward prowl, more curious now at who had been here than mad that they had taken what he should have had the chance to find first. The pup seemed to have no luck with heads.

He was not prepared for what he saw.

Of course, he was not sure what he was seeing, either.

From the concealment of a bank and from the cloak of shadows that was night, he watched; even the wind favored him as it cast his scent behind him and brought to his nose all manner of scents. There was one most strange that gently stirred even more strangeness within him, but the boy was still, eyes raptly glued on the dark wolf's hips as they thrust against the rotting head. He squinted he tried to make sense of the behavior and of the protrusion of glistening flesh —

Euron jolted most suddenly, head snapping around to his own flank as if stung by a bee. His rear leg was thrust unceremoniously over his head as his tongue reached out to soothe a new and queer tenderness, one brought on by the touch of delicate flesh meeting the unwelcoming ice crystals of cold snow. He was unravelled in that moment, and glanced up just in time to see the pale figure of another approaching the first. He knew that wolf. He knew her to be trouble.

He spun and hared away toward the woods before he even had a chance to realize that he was doing it; his mind was churning as fast as his little paws were, and neither stopped even as he breached the borders and winged for the glen.