Ankyra Sound Tragedies with penniless fountains

Ephraim shot his head up, alarmed, when the sound of paws treading heavily across the sand alerted him to Mahler's approach. The instinct to flee any threat that marked puphood had yet to leave him. Perhaps it never would, as poorly socialized with the pack as he was. Only his family held his trust currently. It stood to reason that his caution with everyone else was born of unfamiliarity, and much of it came from as far back as his ancestry. He was made not only of wolves, but of flightier creatures as well.

What did this lurking goblin of a wolf want with him? He didn't have the bird anymore; that was left on the grotto's threshold. The soggy pup slowly lowered his chin back to his paws, but he kept his eyes glued on Mahler, and his hide twitched to betray his readiness to take off at any sign of aggression or reprimand.