Sleepy Fox Hollow entdeckung

Emmerich looked at his father with a sour expression. He smacked his lips with a heavy-lidded stare in the direction of the gargoyle. It was clear that he was battling between the urge to pout and the curiosity at what Mahler had caught in his attempts. Curiosity was something that rarely lost. The young boy spun to where his dad stood and padded toward him with his head hung low and his nostrils flared to pull in scents.

One of the rabbits was left alive. It was wounded and bled. The smell of it drew Emmerich forward to sniff at the little creature. His eyes were steady, unblinking. He feared that if he closed them for even a moment, the little thing would spring up and vanish into the shrubbery.

Es wackelt.

The white-hooded boy glanced to his father.