Wolf RPG

He couldn’t breathe through the anger.

How dare they. 

The chirping of night insects did little to settle his spirit, the boil and curl of rage. His stride was angry, but in the way a toddler might throw a tantrum instead of the righteous stride of a man seeking vengeance. He stomped instead of strode, paws sinking into the ground forcefully, before he stopped.

Myrddin dragged in a breath.

Calm down, old boy. You will have what you want.

Inhale. Exhale.

All in due time.

The little dove had been hunting again. She waited while the creature stomped, only realizing that it was not a pale deer that she hounded through the dark, but another wolf; one taller than her, and somehow leaner too, and beautiful in its eccentric way.

It had stopped its fussing, and Wilwarin thought she heard it take some deep breaths. She mirrored the action in time with their inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, trying to learn more without being seen.

They had a long face; everything about them was thin and stretched, and Wilwarin wondered about what had them so riled.