Hideaway Strath Synapses Snap Back in Blissful Anguish

His moment of respite was destined to be fleeting. A rustle from downstream pierced the quietude, pulling the man from the tender clutches of slumber. He straightened, opalescent eyes locking onto the wolf as his attendants gathered protectively around him. She was no creature of Godsmouth, that much was abundantly clear. Perhaps one of Herod’s freshly recruited mercenaries sent to test him?

With a reluctant groan, he heaved himself from the icy shoreline. The warmth of the midday sun cascaded over him like a golden blanket, chasing away the autumnal chill that clung stubbornly to his sopping coat.

On one paw, a potential opportunity glimmered; on the other, he hesitated, unwilling to squander his precious moments of freedom on mercenaries.

Identify yourself. The words slipped from his lips, cool and commanding; the only introduction he currently deemed necessary.