Chimera Fields a crime so old as the sky and bone

Cypress was an intelligent young wolf, but he didn’t understand the sudden spike of tension in the air. He felt, somehow, that he had caused it — but whether that inkling was owed to a guilty conscience or the honest truth was unbeknownst to him. “What’s — ” going on? Tall ears flicked forward, flattened, and flicked forward again. Of the three, Cypress alone held himself in a neutral, even submissive posture: his tail waved slowly in a slight downward cant from his hips and his long muzzle was held low as he glanced from his brother to his cousin with an oblique stare. His characteristic pose, that of a mantling raven, with his head slung low from the high crest of his shoulders, was taut with a whisper of unease but not particularly stiff. “Rian,” he said, focusing in on his cousin, “it’s gonna be like you said, right? We belong with you; with whoever else comes with us.” He desperately wanted to belong — and Rian was the first wolf aside from Alya who had made him feel like he could.