Ankyra Sound If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the town.

hello. i’m terrible

Wylla’s rants hustled through his auditory processing; he was so distracted by the current sorry state of Nyx that the clodpate failed to connect any dots that would illustrate the meaning behind his sister’s words. ”again, what are you talking about?!” he said with exasperation stressing his voice. 

though, not expecting a meaningful follow-up to the question (and not being able to discern normal strung-out Wylla from this advanced version of strung-out Wylla), the obtuse marshmallow turned and shouldered Nyx with flattened ears as she recalled the encounter that left her in her present condition. he’d missed the tacit alarm she expressed amidst his reveal that prior to this incident she’d been unwell, but caught the tail-end of some distress flicker across her face.

”Drageda?” he echoed with a bemused expression, head canting. the name itself had never touched his ears, but to his unknowing, it was the very same pack that had came down upon he and Ingram those many weeks ago. 

the boy turned to Wylla. ”wuuh... do you know what that is?” he asked, a giant ? plastered on his face for a moment before the light-bulb scintillated dimly—wait—Nyx had mentioned them by name, she was the questionee. he turned to face her again. ”wait, do you? why would she attack you in the fields? i was just there the other day. there's no pack.

.....do you think she had rabies?!”