Sleepy Fox Hollow Away, tryna be somebody else

A howl cut through the glade, summoning Anselm with its lyrical notes. He wondered what it was this time. Perhaps the girl was dead. The dark thought took even him by surprise. 

Finding Etienne propping up the very woman that razed his hide, Anselm’s eyes widened in slow recognition and fueled hate. 

His muzzle split into a silent snarl, the creases and cuts on his face scarcely healed enough for such a gesture. He looked to them both for explanation, feeling the fur along his hackles rake.