Blackfeather Woods step or stone, breath or bone

The youth's presence was disconcerting.  Packs were defensive of their children, and with good reason.  Already, he feared that he might run into Burke.  He was not trespassing, but he did not want to get into another fight so soon, not when he was so tired.  If the child was there, that would give Burke ample reason to fight him, a chance that Aesop did not want to take.  He hated how cowardly the fight made him feel, but he had been so close to losing, so close to letting down his pack and endangering his packmates.

So he was hyperaware of the child as he walked, steps quickening in hopes of losing him.  When the same, creaky voice began to speak again, Aesop slowed.  "Herbs don't do that," said Aesop, searching the trees until he found the eyes- orange and silver.  "Nothin' turns you brown but mud, and I ain't that dirty," he sniffed.