Fox's Glade my love is driven by rage

as the stranger turned to point at a fox, marten's gaze lit up. no! he said, a little too loudly for himself, that's a wolf... i know him. and he should be resting! but he wasn't, and marten knew he couldn't make the almost perfect stranger stay put anywhere... god, why was he so worried anyway? he knew he was just setting himself up for failure in this department. 

i don't know you, though, he added, pulling his gaze away from the fiery brute and looking to the pearly white girl, my name is marten. i live at easthollow. the yearling smiled gently, his tail swaying. his bi-colored gaze swept to the firebrand once again before looking back at the female.