Fright night

Mortis was cautious and weary, holding himself crouched in the little hallow of the tree. Cramped space for a direwolf, and Hika fit nearly against his side. He pulled the white boy close to him and felt the quick little frightened breaths of Hika. This was the wolf who's steady patience had gotten him off the cliff. Who had helped him survive a snow storm, who had traversed the rogue lands of Boreas without losing his cool. Now here he sat, tightly against Hika, breathing quick little gasps of fear.

Morts hackles rose protectively, and he pulled back his lips in a silent snarl. His weary caution turning to anger that this unknown had frightened his friend. He held the pose for a moment, feeling the anger roll through him before accepting the fact that he couldn't yet fight the unknown. The strange, uncanny cry and the heavy thud of prints was completely unknown to him. Instead, he turned to Hika. Huddling in front of the boy, his lips to the others ear. "Hey. It's okay, I've got you, okay? We're going to be okay." He promised in a gentle whjsper, so soft that it couldn't be heard a step or more away.