Phantom Hollow sweet potato pie

It was not until the quickly-approaching footsteps were only a few yards away that Dune roused. His final snore turned into more of a snort, and he sat bolt upright, bleary blue eyes locked on the ghostly stranger who was approaching him at such a brisk pace. None-too-pleased with the idea of being snuck up on, Dune's hair stood on end all along his neck and the ridge of his back, and his lips curled as he prepared to defend himself. Dune was not a particularly violent wolf, but he did know when and how to defend himself, and he was certain this was one of those times.

The world around them was still incredibly quiet, with only the falling footsteps of the approaching wolf and Dune's breathing and faint growl adding any sound to the air. Dune's claws gripped the earth, and every muscle in his body waited for the other wolf to either ease up (which would cause Dune to relax considerably) or charge him (which would most certainly require Dune to fight back).