Phoenix Maplewood locked in your own home

“No.” Not the most enthusiastic response in the world; is Dakota seeing things or is the wolf sizing him up? Ha, that’s nothing new! He stands steady, unphased. He’s blissfully unaware he’s been pegged as ugly; there’s a certain sense of pride Dakota gains from interactions like this. Surely he’ll make a good impression, both for himself and other wolfdogs who pass through. In fact, he’s about to explain his heritage when the wolf continues with a question.

This tells Dakota two things: first, between this and the lack of overt hostility, this territory isn’t claimed. Free pickings. And second, from “around here,” he shouldn’t expect adjacent lands to be so liberating. It’s a game to him, this weaving between invisible lines; he welcomes the challenge.

In response, Dakota shakes his head, smile unwavering. It’ll do him good to learn more before moving on. “Can’t say I am, stranger. Yourself?”