The one to answer Tyr's hail was not in fact Erani. The big dark male appeared, and for a very long moment Tyr could not breath. Half-crouched he froze, every muscle so tense with fear that pain washed over him. Words reached him faintly through the ringing of his ears, but all Tyr could focus on, all he could see was Hroovitnir before him. The big black male with the yellow eyes and scars, studying him... ready to explode in fury any second and punish him for running away, tearing into him... His vision began to blacken and go fuzzy around the edges. Hroovitnir moved, settling into a fighting stance, and Tyr flinched back violently, crying out, fully expecting the wolf to spring at him, to feel teeth in his scruff at any moment.
Instead he tripped over himself in his haste to get back, jarring himself out of the terror that had crushed him in it's grip. His eyes flew back to the wolf, half-expecting it to have been simply an apparition, but the wolf was still there. Still there, but only one eye was yellow - the other was blue, and the white star on his forehead made it clearer. This was not Hroovitnir. The wolf smelled of Valhalla, and of Erani, and shame choked Tyr. "I- I'm sorry!" he whined frantically, ears flat. Had he even caught a word the wolf had said? His mind frantically tried to piece together the buzzing words that had actually made it through subconsciously. Something about hackles, and tucking his chin, and... no, he didn't have any idea what was going on.
"Speech"
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