The Sentinels Boarfish

FISH?!

The word hung in the air, loud, ringing from the trees and in his ears and mind and chest…

Fear spiked from his belly, urging him to run. The feeling spread to his legs, tingling along each thread of hair he wore. The fur at his neck bristled slightly.

Swordfish turned his head, away from her and the shimmering light of the moon that had illuminated his face. The young wolf did not know what to do or how to respond. Silence seemed like the best option. The bear-hunter allowed it to fill the air, daunting enough that even the hum of crickets had become softer.

What d’ya want? the boy grunted. When his eyes shifted back to her, they glimmered coldly.