Lost Creek Hollow Bloody Veil

Ilya's voice carried out of the darkness to him, though his only acknowledgment for a split-second was the idle turn of his ear to capture her words. He had no qualms about her joining and for a scant and silent few seconds, nothing out of the ordinary turned up. But the spark of unease from Arabella was perceptible to him; it became concrete when the tawny she-wolf suddenly bolted from his side. His hackles pricked in response to her sudden decision to flee, and his gaze was torn away from the blood moon to follow after her disappearing form to the darkness. It did not linger there, instead sweeping to check their surroundings for some sign of danger. There was none.

Wondering what that had all been about, his attention was left to come round on Ilya. By then her attention had gone back to settle on the wonder of the night sky, and he found he was lost on words. With a parting glance to the direction in which Arabella had spirited away to, he slowly reclined to his haunches. The unease he felt still did not make sense, but he found the silence that lingered still was even more unsettling.

"I'm not sure what that was all about," he murmured softly.