Ankyra Sound once there was a bee named spider

"--continued strangled GASPING because he was the equivalent of a fat man who had seen nothing but doritos and mcdouble mcdonalds meals for the last six years." sames

the whiteclad beta kept pace alongside Ingram all the way back to the marches of Grimsnismlal, his concern for the claudication frustrating his brother's gait overshadowing any of the bitterness that still lingered for the breach of trust lodged between them. his own injuries were minor--a sliced up gum and an upper canine with the enamel hewed from jaw-sparring with the Drageda male, but neither troubled him more than his brother's tooth-raked, bloodstained leg. 

once they breached the borders of their home and found Wylla, who anxiously began worrying over the extent of their damage with anger splashed across her face like nothing he'd ever seen before, Lycaon shifted, ears splay, as she sniffed his face. "we're fine," he reassured, shouldering against her.

before he could begin to explain what had unfolded to result in such cruor, Ingram dropped a name--Arrille--and Lycaon realized he had no inkling what he'd even obtruded on before he picked a fight with the two hens and their dutiful capon. he shared a reluctant glance with his silvered brother as he worked towards inculpating him in the escalation of the situation, his eyes dish-wide and a quiet shake of his head given to discourage it. 

he listened to the story as a pair of fresh ears, too, despite being involved. he had never met the youth at the center of it all, and had questions of his own laden on his tongue yet he did not speak a word of them. instead, he turned his attention to Wylla and added his own contribution to the explanation of their present state. "Kierkegaard tried to let one of them run home to get someone... Heda?" he squinted, head tilting.