Ravensblood Forest i'm quiet like a fire — pack claim howl

He was on the beach when the call rose. The boy had been battling it out with a large crab that refused to give in to his will, pointy fists raised in defense of it's body. The sound of Constantine's voice on the wind was a signal for something; he felt the power in it, heard the commanding tone of it, and — the crab took its chance to snip at Screech's toes, distracting him from the pivotal moment. He yelped and snapped his teeth at the crab, grabbing it harshly by the opposite limb and in trying to tear it free from its weak grip of his paw, tore the limb free of the crab instead. A wet mess of salty water-plus-guts sluiced across the sand.

Then, having wasted enough time fighting this stupid creature, Screech tossed his own head back and joined in. He lent his gravel-pit of a voice to those that rose through the trees, unafraid that perhaps the wolves of Moonspear might hear him among the chaos of the many voices. Let them, he thought, They can't hurt me here.