Ankyra Sound creature fear

Oh, yeah, that's more than fine. :D

<style>.forest1 .ooc {font-style:italic; color:#494a43; } .forest1 p {padding: 0px 9px; margin:0px; text-indent:25px; } .forest1 b {color:#282828; letter-spacing:-.1px; } .forest1 {background-color:#b5bbc6; background-image:url('http://i.imgur.com/HPq9O7z.png'); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; } .forest1 .float {float:right; width:0px; height:10px; } .forest1 .text {font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#4c4c4c; letter-spacing:.1px; word-spacing:.1px; line-height:18px; width:460px; text-align:justify; padding: 20px 20px 290px 20px; } .forest1-border {width:500px; margin:0 auto; }</style>

Favoring the leg greatly, the ashen male huffed heavily against the morning air. Craning his skull around to lock his gaze on the injury, Kierkegaard gritted his teeth tightly against each other. Swollen, red, and in awful shape, he was not so unintelligent that he could not realize when his well-being was being threatened. His fever had started early in the morning. It had been what had riled the hulking mass of ragged grey fur out of his den and sent him staggering blindly into the pale light of dawn. His head was clouded with bad judgment and the fever was taking its toll. Kierke had wanted to wait for his sister to return. He had wanted his only form of family to assist him, but she had been traveling the Teekon area for days and he feared that it would be too late if he waited for Moz to arrive once more. So, he sought the only other wolf he could think of.
Perhaps his interaction with Caiaphas did not permit him to seek her aid. If this was the case, he doubted that she would come to the borders of the Sound at all. It would be of little concern to the male; she had a life inside of that pack, and he was a feverish infected loner with no ties to the land around them. Still, he could not help but believe that she would catch the scent of blood from the hare, or even his own perfume, in the wind.
And suddenly, there she was.
Caiaphas’ narrow figure and rickety legs seemed to carry her towards him with a brisk purpose. There was a moment of fear that struck him when he realized that – maybe – he should not have sought out the borders of the sea wolves. Kierkegaard had run out of options, though, and he had stubbornly neglected the pain in his leg for days. Even more than this, he could not help but to feel a wave of relief at the sight of her brilliant yellow gaze. Her features appeared stern, maybe troubled, but he shrugged away the thoughts that continued to prick at the back of his mind when she mentioned that they were to head for the grotto. Without a word, the Sairensu male bowed his head, gripping the rabbit between his jaws, and followed her slender frame to wherever it was that she would lead him.