Silver Creek he is beloved and he is feared

The thin-limbed devil had ventured round the base of the large rock structure from the shade of the forest where he had entered the wilds again. The sharpness of his hawkish gaze seemed to dart from brush to leaf, lingering only on the foliage that whistled and moved at the touch of the wind. Gluskap moved swiftly enough on the length of his ochre legs. His figure cut a delightful image; stubbed tail and russet hues that stood as a stark contrast to the rest of the world.
 
It was not until he had sighted another figure – large and formidable in his stride – bent to drink at the river, that Glu took a keen interest in the other male. He watched for a moment from the seclusion of the nearby brush. It housed him well, leaving little room to see the coywolf if it weren’t for the glimmer of his sharp yellow gaze. Fearlessly, the renegade emerged from his hiding place and seemed to dance toward the other wolf.
 
“You’re a wild thing, aren’t you?”
 
The smile that lingered on the edges of his lips was almost excited. The ruff where his tail had been seemed to quiver with that emotion, lasting only a moment before he straightened his lips and drew his narrow skull upward. It was there that he noticed the markings of the other brute; and a brute he was. The coywolf had never had much interest in the muscular dolts that meandered through the wilds with a predisposition for throwing their weight around. It was difficult for him to resist a challenge of that sort, though.