The Sentinels bal du moulin de la galette

The insects had done wonderous, awful things to the forest. There wasn't a single leaf left upon the forest floor or on any tree, not even the highest reaches being safe. Renoir raised his head to try and investigate higher, and then thrust his forequarters up, teetering on his hind legs while bracing himself against one of the wide-trunked trees. With a squint, he gave up. As his paws found the earth again, they made a soft sound upon landing and Ren found himself moved by the odd lack of crunch. He began to investigate his paws, and noticed the shifting form of the dark wolf in his periphery.

Immediately, the boy's features lit up. Alo ankò, his tail fanned at his hocks; he was not afraid to show his glee upon sighting the familiar man, but it wasn't in his nature to hide such things to begin with. Mwen pa t'tande ou yo m'ou yo se byen fofile nan. His tone was light and in no way antagonistic. The boy was thoroughly impressed.