Sleepy Fox Hollow Pirates are landlocked

Anselm anticipated a blow. His blood pounded fiercely in his ears, a staccato drumbeat echoing his own righteous anger.

Étienne was many things he was not; if the saltwhipped boy was an ocean, Anselm was the stony cliff it crashed upon; the two splintering and breaking each other until reduced to trickles and fragments alike.

I ask vhy you cry. If that is cruel to you, I have much to show you about the vorld. It does not care about sissy boys and their dead ‘grandmes’. Anselm’s conical teeth showed in response to the fierce exposure of Etienne’s fangs, pearly things arranged neatly in the precise manner of one designed for bloodletting. He did not know what language it was Étienne spoke, but he felt the burn of their smoke-laced utterances and knew them to be insulting.

Anselm drew to his full height, chest puffed and fur along his spine raised in rising palisades. He knew he wasn’t half of these things Etienne accused him of, but he was outgunned in the insults department, having little chance to ever use them among his packmates. He knew his loved his parents and brother very much - and he knew they loved him, too. The rest of the world, however, was given no such generosity — for Anselm had learned at a young age the world was a grist mill, churning anything and everything in its path. You say much, but do nothing besides cast insults like angry woman. Anselm, raised by traditional mores, expected this blow to land like an anchor. Acknowledging the proud lift of Etienne’s skull, Anselm wondered if he should strike then for the perceptibly bounding vessel which transported gouts of crimson just beneath his throat.

As it was, he knew Étienne had much more to lose if he cast the first blow. Anselm may have provoked the chestnut word-weaver, but the moment his fangs crossed Anselm’s body would be the moment the pack turned against him. Of this, Anselm was confident — and it showed in the flagrant way he postured. His words goaded, hoping to draw from the furious boy a physical rebuke. Maybe if you were not so busy crying, you vould make a good contribution to this pack.