Ankyra Sound something rotten in the state of denmark

A stern-looking wolf-mix cut his laughter short, emerging from the darkness in the wake of a banshee screech. She was all glaring eyes and business, making her displeasure known with every part of her body that could be made to look aggressive. On the other side of her sullen glare, Vlad looked at the scrappy little creature with suspicion in his yellow eyes. "I no.. smell claim lend," he challenged, raising his head to breathe deeply of the cool, salty air. A wicked grin split his face again, and he hiked a brow high over the left-most of his wicked eyes. "I smelling tiny wolf only. You hev ghost peck?"