Hushed Willows Could've been the wine

She'd slipped from his grasp. 

And children were wont to do so- he knew this perfectly well...But he couldn't help the feelings it had stirred within him when he had noticed she'd left the Mesa, her sanctuary. He had not fixed her broken skin pattern- no amount of cleaning and preening seemed capable of fixing whatever mange it was that she had- but he had kept her fed, and had taught her...And now she had simply wandered off- trailing away from his Mesa, from their home, without a word. He'd told himself at first to simply let her go. She'd been a useless investment of his time, anyway. Not nearly as sweet or affectionate as kittens were, and she had that constant habit of scratching herself with her hind feet...But he felt betrayed to have been forsaken by a lesser species. And he'd taken some solace in convincing himself that at least, if he couldn't teach her to be a better animal, he could at least have her for a meal. 

And now he felt robbed of that. 

Or so he told himself. But his heart ached as he traced her trail, and he felt jealousy stir within him as he realized she had been intercepted by other wolves. He stalked them, occasionally losing their trail as they wound their way West toward the coast, but there was no mistaking the fact that she had been taken in by her own kind, and that he felt angry about it. She owed him a debt- or, in the very least, a thank you for having saved her life on more than one occasion. He'd even nearly killed one of her own species that had been trespassing and trying to attack her...He'd fed her, kept her warm and safe, and she decided to rpay him by running off with her own kind? He was outraged. 

He lurked along the borders of the pack he approached, having found that her trail led beyond the boundaries. She had a home now- and was back with her own kind. But he didn't care. He cared just long enough to check the markings to see how fresh they were...And while he wasn't sure exactly how many wolves there were, or how long they'd been in the area, he was certain that they were patrolling on a frequent basis. No matter. These were dogs. He could handle a couple dogs. 

So he roved beyond the border, slithering through the wooded willows in search of the reckless child who had abandoned him so thoughtlessly.