Barrow Fields and drawing lines around my body to recall my place

The other wolf stays involved by continuously sating their curiosity of his past and present. Their first question is a simple one the second, not so much. 

Donovan just gazes back to them as he answers. “I am. In the forest southwest of here that sits between two mountains. Where the trees drip blood.” He describes his new home loosely and just a tad bit ominously. 

Then as he moves on, he wills himself to not get irritated by just thinking about her. Hell, if he saw her now he would squeeze her head between his jaws until it pops and all he is left with is a mess of blood and gore. He shakes himself from the imagery of his fucked up imagination. 

He laughs bitterly. “Sasha was her name. Purebred dog too. Can’t remember exactly what the humans called what she was but it doesn’t really matter anyway. I don’t know what happened to her. She probably still works for the humans, doing to other what she did to me.” He shrugs, face pensive and riddled with irritation. Then he meets the others eyes. “She was pregnant with my pups when she did all this too. Now isn’t that fucked up.” He vents. A laugh that is not in any way humorous comes out again.

He sighs. “Anyway, you don’t need to hear my pussy ass vent. Appreciate though.” He chuckles more genuinely this time as he shakes his head side to side. He doesn’t believe how he acts about it. Donovan believes he’s being a big ol’ baby about it. He hates showing weak emotions to others, but he can’t help the irritation that crosses him when he thinks about it.