Haunted Wood desperation

He came upon a wolf swiftly, or rather they set upon him with a defensive air that tugged at something bestial and dormant within himself. He turned to square himself against the oncoming shape in anticipation for a challenge; the shine catching across his raised and jagged scruff, Revui held his own strength as he prowled closer, sizing her up while she spoke.

Her ruddy coat looked almost black in the shade of the grove; she was likely older than him, healthy, physically fit. But Revui had trained all his life for such confrontation, he would not back down. Especially not when the world now faltered and fell to pieces around him. He loosed a low warning in the back of his throat and leered, taking on an almost reptilian edge.

His posture was proud, it was animate; goading impatiently for her attack, for the gargoyle wished to prove he was not going anywhere.