Ankyra Sound the horseman

The lure had worked well. Arrille dove for the soft underbelly of the ashen brute. As he moved, Kierkegaard connected his limbs with the young wolf’s shoulders and pressed him down. Of course, he was met with resistance and a few angered remarks to get off. The ghost only looked down at the younger male and frowned deeply. His eyes watched as the muscles in the light-eyed wolf’s back were writhing and fighting against his hold.

”You just simmer down and I’ll let you back up,” he grumbled with a sigh. He was too old to endure the tantrums of the young, but Arrille was so filled with rage that it became difficult not to tread so close to the heat.