Phoenix Maplewood Øye

Hackles bristled.

The banshee screams from the brush forced Jörmungandr to spin, lowering his head into a defensive position that would spare his throat from attack. His eye swung to latch onto the rangy figure who had approached so boldly. Even in an unknown world, the dark wolf believed he was at risk. There were wolves with sharp fangs all around.

But it was only his sister.

Jörmungandr deflated. His wine-red eye fell flat with disinterest. The dark wolf drew his snout higher so that he might peer down the length of it at her.

Hel… his rumbling voice sounded, dead-pan and aloof.