Blackfoot Forest I couldn't imagine a more perfect evening

Corvus continued to wander open land, refusing to stay in one place unless something caught his interest enough to convince him to stay. The sun was almost finished dipping itself all the way below the horizon, and the stars were coming out to play. The moon hung in the sky, nearly half-full. As he neared a dense forest, eerie sounds trickled into his ears from within. They were clearly not lupine, but what were they? With his curiosity piqued, the shadow slipped into the forest.

Dark figures seemed to dance in his peripherals, the noises coming from all around him now. His ears swiveled to follow them. The canopy shrouded all beneath it in shadows. How interesting, Corvus thought amusedly. Though the atmosphere was mysterious and foreboding, it only drew him in. He felt inspired to explore the area, nose lowering to the ground to sift through the scents. The paths of countless foxes criss-crossed each other along the ground. Were they perhaps the shadows and the source of those eerie sounds? They were certainly prone to making strange noises. Corvus continued to explore this intriguing area, considering spending the night here as he did.

This time he headed south from his family's makeshift camp in Wapun Meadow. He couldn't stand the sight of their younger light-haired ward anymore and need a time-out from him, lest he lose his temper and hurt the kid—and he knew Caiaphas would kick his ass to the moon if he did that, to say nothing of Kierkegaard's punishment for such a thing. No, Ephraim would rather keep his hide intact. So he spent the pent-up energy in the only way he knew how when on his own: walking.

His pace was slow as he approached the dark edge of a woodland as dusk claimed the land. His parents would wonder after him at this hour, but oh well. It was neither the first or last time he would be given a stern talking to for wandering off. What was a growing boy to do? With no security in the form of a pack, he had to keep his vigil even when his parents were around. It was exhausting and, moreover, made him restless and inconsolable.

There was a little comfort in the familiarity of the forest. He had crossed through one or two briefly while his family fled the coast and had enjoyed the heavy cover they provided. Even as a toddler, Ephraim's mind was busy churning out strategies for both escape and ambush; that was what his ancestors excelled at, after all. His ears came to sharp points over his brows as a haunting scream cut through the trees, raising the thin all along his spine into sharp lines. His tail was bottlebrush behind him as he turned about, heart hammering, and found he was staring at the blackened complexion of some specter stalking through the woods.

The pup screeched right in Corvus' face.

He was intrigued when he saw a youngster on his own—and in such an eerie setting, no less. Corvus stalked closer without a word. He'd begun to think he had quite the nerve to be out here alone until the boy became visibly spooked from the cry of a shadow. Pity. The boy then whirled around to be met with his face, which quickly developed into a devilish smirk. But then he began to shriek like the foxes he so feared, and the smirk dissipated.

Corvus' ears flattened from the grating noise, and he reached up a paw to silence the source. There is no need for that, little fox, He said cooly, a relaxed expression replacing the spark of irritation before it. Where are your parents? This is no place for children to play. He was more curious than concerned but awaited his response, nonetheless.

Corvus' wicked grin, though very momentary, stole the rest of Ephraim's self control from him. He became keenly aware of wetness spreading through the short fur between his thighs and he shifted his tail up between them as though to hide his shame. His brothers and sister would surely laugh him to death if they knew he'd been frightened enough to wet himself. Him! Ephraim was about as energetic as a rock most days, giving the illusion that he had no strong feelings, but the reality was laid bare for him then and there.

He was just a little boy in a dark forest with a scary wolf staring him down. The background music was the piercing shrieking of the foxes. It wasn't exactly the setting of a sweet dream.

"Dunno," he replied as bravely as he could, the same strategy he'd employed when speaking with Grezig a day or two ago; he knew exactly where they were in the meadow to the north-west, close by but certainly far enough away to be hidden from view. He merely pretended like he didn't. "W-whassa fox?" he asked, but he was unable to hide the fearful chatter of his teeth despite his best effort to seem like he hadn't been scared out of his skin just moments ago.

The stench of urine coated the air. Ah, he had been very wrong in his initial impression. Well, he wouldn't be too hard on the boy; he was still very young, and the setting was about as unsettling as they get. Corvus supposed he fit in quite nicely. His Cheshire grin returned, sharp pearly whites almost glowing in the darkness around them.

Interstingly, the boy tried to save face with a facade of nonchalance that he was absolutely not buying for a second. If he truly didn't know where his parents were (which he knew could well be false), that was none of Corvus' concern. If he died, that was simply nature's way. He should not have been so foolish. The sound of the youth's teeth chattering and the stutter of his question was only further proof that he was scared pissless.

Take a listen, Corvus said, letting silence wash over them for a few heartbeats. A piercing shriek echoed from deep within the forest, and others close by responded. Those are foxes, He finally answered, grin still plastered on his face. Of course he wouldn't give the detailed answer. Where would the fun be in that?

Corvus' creepy grin returned and Ephraim felt a thrill of fear zing through him. The man wouldn't eat him, right? He had never really been threatened with being eaten but his instincts told him it was a very real possibility. His muscles tightened in his legs, preparing to take him away in a moment if Corvus' intentions weren't good, but all the male wolf did was tell him to listen.

Ephraim flared his ears and concentrated on the sounds in the forest, then flinched hard when another scream broke the stillness. He couldn't imagine what kind of creature would make a noise like that. Something huge, he reckoned, with sharp teeth and sharper claws. Shiver. "S-scary," Ephraim admitted, tail twitching. "Whassa fox e-eat?"

Ephraim is too precious. ♥

As expected, the child was once again riled by the foxes. He likely imagined a fox to be a horrifying monster. Corvus chuckled. Well, he'd learn someday what a fox truly was... probably.

To answer the boy's question, he leaned in to murmur in his ear, Children lost in the woods. The corners of Corvus' mouth looked like they were about to slice his face in half. Then, his mouth split open for a manic cackle to erupt from deep within his throat. The pup would probably run, as he should. Corvus had spent enough time fooling around. He wanted to get back to exploring this place, and the last thing he needed was a child in tow.

When asked later to recount his experiences, Ephraim wouldn't dare to admit that he had been afraid. He would boast to Raleska, Rhakios and Illidan how he had boldly gone into the dark woods and conquered all of its frightful monsters. In his stories, he was an adventurer who never quailed. But with the screeching of foxes in the background to feed Ephraim's imagination, it was all too easy for Corvus to unhinge his show of bravado. The shrieking cackle was enough to make every hair on his tiny body stand up; before he knew what he was doing, Ephraim was fleeing back toward camp with his tail tucked neatly between his legs.