Hushed Willows yes my husband's gone to golden green to do some business there

No such luck hoping the buzzing gnat in his ear would go away. She persisted, showing a neat set of teeth that she likely knew how to use.

It seemed his tired paws would not find respite here. After a small assembly arrived, Riley looked at each of them in perturbed silence. He had been searching for Esme, and now he was being assailed by natives in a land that was, as far as his nose told him, unclaimed (though clearly occupied).

He was not a wolf that would survive a three-versus-one. It didn't stop him from slowly rising, his hind leg lifting like a stilted marionette as a rancid stream of yellow liquid darkened the willow's trunk. Finished, he kicked up the soft loam with his hind paws in the canine equivalent of the middle-finger. "Where is Esme?" He asked, searching each of their faces with his one straight eye.