Sleepy Fox Hollow Last long enough to go extinct,

Anselm noticed none of the turbulence that waged its war behind Etienne's eyes. Even if he had been aware of such stormy seas, would he brave them?

After all -- was he not the stone, while Etienne was the ocean? What use does a rock have for water, what use does the sea have thrashing against boulder?

A thousand scents met his nose as he walked past Etienne, unaware that for a moment he was studied. Anselm's mind delved to the task at hand much the same as Etienne's had, though his mind was so singular it entirely ignored the obvious.

Deer. A splatter of blood here and there told of its struggle.

Anselm's ears pricked as he wordlessly set off in a jaunty trot.