Sleepy Fox Hollow pyroclast ii

colosseum watched as selenia worked the ice, her strength and determination evident in the sharp movements of her hooves breaking through the creek’s brittle surface. the mare was diligent, resourceful—a quality he deeply respected, though he allowed himself a moment’s pride in the knowledge that these were his mares now, under his protection.

his ears swiveled, his dark gaze narrowing as he scanned the surrounding forest, his muscles coiling beneath his thick winter coat.

and then he saw her.

the wolf emerged slowly from the treeline, her frame crouched low, her posture deferential. his nostrils flared as he took in her scent, his tail swishing in a sharp arc behind him. she spoke, her voice carrying words of strange respect, but colosseum didn’t relax. instead, he moved forward, his massive body placing itself between the wolf and selenia, his head lowering in a clear warning.

not dinner. he stated firmly, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to echo through the stillness of the snowy glade. his eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto the wolf. what are you? the butcher?

his muscles remained tense, his stance protective as he awaited her response, every ounce of his being radiating a quiet, deliberate power.