Sleepy Fox Hollow [m] nomajoka

Anselm came down from the high pines to the scent of sweetmusk simmering in the hollow. 

His fur bladed in irritation. First, the daughter made his home her medical camp — bringing with her more mouths and needs. Now, her band of itinerants set camp around his home, imparting their scents thickly among his own. 

In a brisk trot Anselm made towards the widow — a surge of jealousy sending choking fumes to his heart. He planned to drive her from the hollow until her heat subsided; the bitter thought of her luring Etienne too hurtful to even entertain.