Sleepy Fox Hollow Down the road

Anselm had the sinking feeling he was being watched; yet no livid gaze burned from the dark canopy. 

He turned back to the boy as he felt him press his flank, one ear folding as a pitiful noise broke from the stranger’s chest. A growl! Anselm huffed, scanning the treeline once more as he reminded himself he was being overly silly. 

Do you have a name? In Anselm’s estimation it was highly unusual to find a stray puppy (was this how Reyson had felt?). He supposed the best thing to do would be to bring him to Mahler and Wylla; maybe then Donnie could get his fill and be on his way if he wasn’t lost.