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There was a knock knock on the door. Vlad couldn't quite believe his ears. He had spent a week scouting for wolves with exactly nothing to show for it, and here was a wolf standing right on his doorstep. It could be a trap, of course, or a rabid lunatic. Vlad would take his chances.

It was immediately and abundantly clear that this was not a wolf seeking refuge. Lasher was much too well fed, and he carried himself like a wolf that did something important for a living. Vlad mimicked the visitor's posture, squaring his shoulders and stomping into view with a defiant look in his yellow eyes. "What you ees wanting?" he barked, "Ees beech of Saltwinter peck, no make walks here eef not want I keel you."