Moonspear halfway to a donut

When he heard no response, the beast began to pace. He watched the trees and strained to study the slopes, wondering if there were any worthy adversaries in this place; perhaps they were all busy, or a pack hunt was taking place. As he was not a hunter Lazarus did not know what to expect from such a vocation; he was agitated by the calm of the mountain today, and eager to get his blood pumping.

And finally, a beast emerged. It was a smaller creature that looked less wolf and more something else, but Lazarus cared little about the origins of his opponents. He cared about their blood only when he tasted it. Yet as the stranger approached and Lazarus was given his first chance to investigate them, he saw nothing in the other wolf-thing which made him want to fight. They were small and unfit for battle, with strange curves and hardly any muscle. At best this wolf might be quick on his feet, but nothing more — or so Lazarus' initial study told him.

He grunted lowly, and then looked beyond the boy in the manner of a bouncer at a club searching for someone of higher calibur to allow entry.