Sleepy Fox Hollow Down the road

Seeing Donnie subdued Anselm’s posture softened, but he set no less a rigid pace. They were scarcely several strides away when he swore he heard a growl — followed by the thrashing of undergrowth and the spooked flutter of birds. 

Anselm froze abruptly. He lifted his muzzle to the wind to scent, but sensed nothing out of the ordinary. His guard hairs rose slowly as he looked about, feeling something unpleasant rake down his spine. Emmerich? Anselm called, his long muzzle turning as he took in their surroundings. If you are there, come out. Quit it.