Sleepy Fox Hollow Patrouillieren

Anselm caught none of the brief jealousy in Emmerich; his gaze was already focused south. 

He wondered, how did coyote meat taste?

Ve could make a trip of it. Anselm offered in the boyish optimism of a stupid teen. Nevermind it was dangerous. Nevermind they were talking about a topic as grave as murder. 

It would be fun, right?

The pair walked a little further, their figures fading into the sunny gloom of a warm, fleeting summer day.