Swiftcurrent Creek Andaran atish’an

A snarl tore through the quiet.

Before he could turn, the thunder of paws reached his ears, too close—too fast. Fenrith barely had time to tense before the impact hit his side. It was like being struck by a boulder, all power and force as he was knocked clean off his feet.

The cold sting of wet stone met his shoulder first, driving the air from his lungs in a sharp huff. Instinct took over; his legs scrambled for purchase, but the weight of his attacker pinned him before he could rise.

“Shit—!” he wheezed, his voice raw with shock.

Fenrith’s big brown eyes shot up at the black wolf who had him pinned against the wet stone. His chest heaved with frantic draws of breath. His tail tucked instinctively, a show of submission.

"Don't eat me!" A vocal cry that sent birds flying from their trees, stemming from fear and adrenaline.