Wapun Meadow I’m just a little moon running from the sunrise.

she stopped. ancelin paused. they stared at each other. the valleywolf felt suddenly foolish, but doubled down on it, snorting in draconic noises at her questioning look.
he had wanted her to keep running; now she wasn't. "you smell — ill," he claimed in a growl, though illness was not the proper word for the changes in her scent. "leave."
it felt good to flex his teeth, his jaws; ancelin had land of his own to protect and the aggression infused him with a cold sense of rightness.