Ankyra Sound Tragedies with penniless fountains

He was just chancing a step onto the waterlogged strand when Mahler happened by his rocky roost. Ephraim's blue eyes lifted to inspect the man as he passed, but instead the wolf stopped nearby. It was the gargoyle from the beach, he noted with some childish disdain. The man had done much of nothing on his first time out of the grotto and he was surprised at being given any recognition now. It had seemed his life would remain this way forever—the only wolf here who took notice of them was Caiaphas. Mahler proved him wrong.

But as the waterfowl hit the ground with a splash and the tiny coywolf's eyes followed it, he found he neither understood Mahler's words nor meaning. The command was beyond his limited grasp at this age. His thin tail swept pensively over the dusty rock and he lifted his gaze questioningly to the adult, never uttering a noise of his own. His nose lifted imperceptibly; what did he want?