Ankyra Sound you can’t save me

treepie’s quick inhale earned the quick flit of one russet capped ear. sobeille tried to draw from treepie’s expression any clue to what she might have thought; as she openly studied the familiar contours of her fellow predator’s face, tiuttuk spoke. 

now came part of the story sobeille knew would bother the sensibilities of most wolves. she shifted upright, to better read every micro-expression gathering across treepie’s countenance. 

de drop. neither came back. the twist in her gut went unacknowledged; she had come very close to loving those, and the sea had once again taught her a brutal — but important — lesson about putting faith in those that were not her blood.