Hushed Willows So Hungry

i ain't gonna hurt you, son.
not yet, at least.
boone shuffles backward to allow the man his space; to run, or perhaps to prepare himself for an impending attack. his eyes glisten as he scans the frail figure. his tail stands stiff in a proud flag.
this is hearthwood's land. name's boone. s'my pack, his head dips. you don't know nothin' 'bout where you are, do you?