Hushed Willows a plaintive cry for aid

Olive too was drawn forth by the suspicious crooning she heard near the outskirts of the territory. She made haste, knowing that winter was a hungry, ornery time for wolves  — and not all wolves respected the idea of a sanctuary. Instead of peace and love, some wolves only knew how to hate and cause disruption. Secretly, Olive loathed the day that a volatile force might not see Elysium as a haven, but a place to be overtaken. What would they do, then?

At least, if anything, Elysium had Khali. Olive had always been pleased with the man and his presence, but it was even mores after she saw the way he became riled up at the implication that there was a harmful intruder. Violence was never the Elysium way, but there was a discernible need for protection that Olive could not ignore.

However, there was no need for protection this day. It was only a small fox pup, seemingly without its mother, since the scents around it were lacking. Immediately, the white sylph was conflicted — as much as she tried not to, the presence of foxes and coyotes always tasted like the death of Oaxaca and the attack of Ibis, the two things that had spurred on the creation of Elysium. However, the right to life and love applied to all things, this small cub included.

“Oh, little sweetling,” she said in a hushed tone, pulling up alongside Khali to look upon the forlorn thing.   “What should we do with you?”