Valentine vs Melanthios

This coydog that bounds in now stands out, not because of his short dark brown coat with it's black brindling, but because his ears are the long and floppy ears of a hound, and the gold-brown eyes that blink with a certain mournful anxiety at the wolves around him are definitely the eyes of a dog far more than a coyote. His tail, thinner than his "cousins" tails, wags at a frantic pace and from his open jaws lolls a long pink tongue. "Hi guys, hi," he yelps, and even his voice quivers with anxious energy as though every word that tumbles from his loose flews is in the hopes of convincing you to love him. His eyes rove the remaining group and alight on the forms of Melanthios and Valentine. He wag-wiggled his way over to them. "Hello, hi, I'm Spot and I'm going to be your guide today. Can you come with me please?" His sorrowful eyes gaze at the pair of wolves as though begging them to tell him he was doing well. Glancing back nearly every step to assure himself they are following, he makes his way to a ring made of stones set into the ground in a circle. "They said you can't step outside of the circle or you're disqualified," he tells them anxiously. "I'm supposed to decide who goes to the next round." His gaze is mournful, as though he's saddened by the idea that he has to tell someone they can't go to the next round. "Do you think you could go first?" he asks Melanthios, while his eyes beg Valentine to forgive him that he could not ask him to go first.