Haunted Wood Strange circle

Blueberry, the wolfdog whispered softly upon hearing the young wolf’s name. He rather enjoyed that, the simplicity of it. Blueberry seemed a lovely name for a child with eyes the shade of ripe fruit.

All of that aside, Pyramus was not so foolish that he had missed the tone of the wolf, the sharp glint of her gaze. He looked to Thisbe, splayed his ears slightly, and then returned his gaze to the young wolf pup. If this was what the wild dogs were like, Pyramus did not know if they would survive long on their own.

We’re sorry, Blueberry. We’ve never met a wolf pack before, not a real one, the wolfdog admitted in a tone that hinted at tragedy. You see we’re only half wolf, Thisbe and I. We wanted to see what it was like in a real pack.