Stone Circle power over me

The sound of scratching, of nails against the dirt, was out of place. It seemed to go on and on. Oiseaux noticed it on occasion - in the same way you might hear your room mate venture in to the kitchen and open the fridge, harmless and distant - except this did not end. He was no guardian; his curiosity drew him out of hiding though, to where he spotted a young brown wolf tearing up the ground.

The boy pranced his way along quietly, his head low against the grass, following his nose at first and then looking around with wide owlish eyes, seeing discarded chunks of food. He did not know what to say. But he did not get a chance to say anything, because his belly rumbled loudly instead, making Oiseaux blush and feel spotlighted for a split second. He drew closer with a leisurely stride and sniffed at one of the exposed caches or another, tempted.