Sleepy Fox Hollow Down the road

Their gaze met. Anselm felt his posture stiffen, but the unfolding of Donnie’s posture suggested he meant no harm. Instinct bid Anslem to stride forward - he did so in careful steps, examining the boy’s scent for a map language of all he had seen, eaten, and been in contact with the last few days. 

His suspicion Donnie was alone seemed correct from the absence of other on his pelt, but where were his parents? He was about to ask this when a snap behind him startled him. 

Whipping his head around, Anselm’s dark nose twitched as he worked through the residual scents of earth and pine. His gaze narrowed - he saw nothing at all in the trees. Perhaps it was a squirrel and he was being silly for being so paranoid. 

He turned back to the boy, the fur along his back settling. Where are your parents?