King Elk Forest The wind

Somewhere in his need to depart, the conversation had shifted tones. It was slight, but Crowfeather had noticed the clear show of teeth and the confident, arrogant, sway of the large wolf’s frame. The alpha of the Saints did not worry for anything, it seemed.

Kynareth attempted to offer words of advice, perhaps even encouragement. Crowfeather’s face burned with embarrassment at being spoken to in such a way.

The large brindled wolf had made him feel like a child in only a matter of seconds.

When he had casually strolled from sight, Crowfeather turned swiftly and raced away into the brush. The dark wolf prayed that he would never see that beast again.