Dragoncrest Cliffs do you know where your heart is.

The brush shifted subtly ahead of him once again. Artaax's breathing slowed as he crept forward while his heart pounded in his chest. It was not fear driving it, but merely anticipation. The boy did not seem to truly know fear. He knew caution, he knew concern and suspicion, but it wasn't exactly fear that motivated any of these feelings. And it certainly wasn't fear that motivated him now, but a natural instinct to ensure that nothing unwelcome in his territory came anywhere near the ones he loved.

That and he really wanted to see wtf it was.

The young wolf paused only two feet from the thicket wherein he was confident lied his prey. His hackles stood erect as he lowered himself back onto the ground, eyes narrowed as he snaked his head to the side in an effort to see through the spaces between the foliage. They widened slightly when he finally spotted... something. He caught a glimpse of ruddy reddish brown that reminded him briefly of Blixen, but it held less ginger in its tone than his sister. His ears cupped forward and his head tilted as the faintest sound came forth. It was the sound of a tiny, frail little whimper.

Suddenly the fire in his chest faded to cinders and he stood to close the remaining distance. Artaax pushed the brush aside with his muzzle to reveal a creature he had never seen before - a small red fox, likely not more than a few weeks old. It was trembling fiercely and gazing up at him with terror in its black eyes, leaving Artaax immobile with uncertainty. Instinct said that he could kill and eat this, but there was something else in his nature that stopped him and made him feel that he wanted to protect this pathetic little creature. What inclination did he obey?

The boy took a breath and turned to look back at Nomi. It was time to get help from a grown up.