Phantom Hollow "I never lie," he says...

"I never lie," he says to the twisting twig that fights against the wind. "You know that; you know they make me in to this horrible thing, this creature who in their mind is mad; it isn't true! It lies -- they lie!" 

The wolf shouts and his erratic voice clings to the trees like moss. The new growth that is this two-inch twig does tremble to his voice and he doesn't appear to realize he is talking to nobody. There is such conviction to their words - perhaps here in this hollow, they are not alone. The tiny branch with its equally puny shock of leaves shudders and the wolf scoffs, his ears twisting in a feisty slant which briefly gives his silhouette a horned look.

The stranger stomps their feet; autum's lowly offering across the forest floor protests and crunches beneath, clinging desperately to strands of oily fur as he fjords a path around the current fixation and through piles if trapped golden leaves. He is muttering to himself and has forgotten the sprouted twig; the conversation continues as if someone is truly there, replying to him in a way he dislikes.

"No, no, I won't do it—Because! You know what happened last time; you do it. You are better at it. I'll do the next one -" As he rambles and pleads with the spirit of something only he can see, a paw hooks upon something beneath the piles of dried leaf litter. Something small and weak and mewling piteously, half dead by the looks of it. He stares down as if unseeing and his eyes are as dull as cement. 

"Last time..? No! Last time was the girl thing. That was me," he shook his head and midway through the motion launched himself to his right, snapping his teeth at the air. "IT WAS! I did that, not you. Your turn now." With a thrust of his paw the wolf rolled the creature over; the fur was a shining red-orange, more red than orange now, and with an almost shy reaching, the black-footed fox tried to get to their feet. The silver wolf would not allow that - and fell upon them suddenly, teeth connecting to the back of their head at the junction of their spine.

A crunch, a twist, and away it came.