Duck Lake The Tingler

He snorted at the line, obviously dropped several times before, though the sentiment was cut off as this Engel stopped and stared. Phocion blinked, not at all taken aback. He knew that without size or strength, his eyes were his most alluring feature, and he used them to his benefit whenever possible.

Engel continued to talk, but Phocion had now started to make sense of the jumbled scents layering his pelt. The plateau. . .and Grayday! Was this a Morningside wolf, just passing through? Perhaps on his way to Easthollow?

"I smell an old friend on your fur," Phocion responded, paying no heed to Engel's coquettish answer. "Grayday. Are you a member of his pack, out scouting?" He was happy to have the opportunity to send a hello to his Silvertip pal, on the other side of the mountains.