Ravensblood Forest The one that will occasionally openly steal babies

touching the shadow had planted a memory in merrick’s mind, one he would rather not have recalled. indra reaching down to him, eyes alight with love.
the boy woke in the heat of the day, choked with rage that his mind should so betray him, and said nothing to astara as he stalked away. a forest soon rose before him, and merrick did not hesitate to slip into its cool embrace. 
for some time he wandered, enraged, but with no outlet it soon turned to little more than a heated boredom. tail flicked between wet leaves; ears swiveled at length, for suddenly merrick found that he was not alone.
breath even and silent, the young coywolf crept through the misted foliage until the burn of his copper eyes fell upon a pup, far younger than himself.
several moments’ more observation revealed that the child was alone, and merrick’s heart began to beat with an untoward excitement. he thought of breccan, of the rabbits; he crouched in his shadowed place, still as a stone, eyes affixed to the boy while he thought of how best to enact his desires.