Northstar Vale Psémata

Hi, the boy said breathlessly to her.

The warmth of her figure drew near to him. Antigone could feel the race of his heart and the warmth that spread down the length of his legs, to his paws. Each slight in her movement, each lingering sense of pain from her wounds drew his eyes. Navy blue searched her frame with hungry concern. Even though his body told him to refrain, the red-hooded boy reached out to touch at her arm.

Until the brute appeared.

Antigone bristled with discomfort. The man’s voice sounded out and pricked the young wolf’s ears. Reyson said he had spoken with the Arche, that they’d shared a conversation. The implication of his tone suggested that it had been a meaningful one. Hatred and spite boiled in the young wolf’s body. He was enraged to know that his father hadn’t thrown the ugly beast from their home.

Quivering, Antigone pressed his side against Meadow. She would be able to feel his quaking form. She would be able to sense the force of his anger and his fear. There would be no question what had spurred it to life.

You shouldn’t be here, he growled to the man.