Hushed Willows Balenciaga shades so they never see him cry

His time spent with Tybault was treasured, learning what it truly meant to be a protector of a pack. Sure, he felt inept at times—well, most of the time, if he were to be honest with himself—but he knew in time it would come.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time he thought he would before needing to use the skills bestowed upon him by Tybault.

His fur bristled at the sudden change in his Uncle, his own nose lifting to scent the breeze. 

Wrong, wrong, WRONG. It shouldn’t be here!

The curses that poured out from the male beside him caused his head to turn, finally laying eyes on the source of the intruding scent.

Eyes wide as he froze, he felt Tybault’s sudden disappearance from his side as he charged after the bear. He had heard Tybault’s call to action, but Carnelian’s paws would. Not. Move.

His mind turned to Peridot, to Reina, to Reverie, to the babies, and finally to all those in the pack. The bear would go after them all, he knew it. He must do something—anything!

He did not know the others well and had no idea if anyone else could or would help, but he called for them anyway. His howl was deep, urgent, bone chilling.

And, then, as if some invisible forced finally let him free, he raced the course Tybault took, flanking the bear opposite of his Uncle with snapping jaws and bared teeth as both males faced the opponent.