Fox's Glade [M]Macchiato

Suzu’s voice came along on the wind. For a fat girl, she sure could sing. 

Anselm found himself compelled to follow. His interest was moreso in protecting her — imagining a man covering her caused his skin to crawl with unthinkable discomfort — whether it was fraternal protectiveness or machismo possessiveness, Anselm did not truly know. 

A smokecloud of a wolf trailed her. Anselm watched from the tree line, feeling he was violating a deep sanctity by being here — but as Suzu turned to regard her suitor, Anselm found their proximity intolerable. 

He pushed from the shade, head low and a bite to his voice he could not quite master. Suzu. His gaze rested pointedly on the male, tail arced in a manner that suggested his advancement was unwelcome.