Moonspear come away, o wolf child!

gonna exit cuz this ooold

The boys are game enough to chase the beast away; it flees with a shriek, dashing away into the misty morning. They follow, with Arcturus drawing to a halt eventually but the other carrying on, in hot pursuit. Llewellyn watches the spot where he vanishes, blinking slowly, before turning to the ebony child, a grave expression on his face.

"Do not stray into the circle," he commands, dipping his muzzle at the fungi. "It is Tylwyth Teg--a place of dark magic. They will take you from your home, and you will never return."

With one last glance toward the ring, eyes narrowed in the ultimate wariness, he stalks away, still bristling. There is a hum to the air that he can't explain, and he hopes that Arcturus is right on his heels, heeding his advice to stay clear of the circle. Pups were notoriously obstinate--but if the boy is anything like he had been, as a child, he would leave and not return until the faeries had vanished.

Perhaps, though, he would think it an adventure. Llewellyn tries hard, over the next few hours, not to think of the worst possible outcome to this scenario.