Wicked Games.

The crimson boy turned sharply, fiery and emerald eyes meeting the pale whites of another male. He spoke to him, asking him what his troubles were. Ha! As if he would explain anything to this brute. Cheeks burned beneath his pelt as a female came along, but thankfully his pelt was already a bright crimson color, making it unseen. He was a bit embarrassed that not one, but two wolves had caught him singing. Was he even good? He couldn't tell, but the female seemed to think so. Whether the comment was true or not he didn't know, but it was still nice to hear. But he was in no mood to talk, no mood to make friends. He was alone in this world, and these two misfits weren't about to change that. The boy quickly stood up, pelt bristled, ears folded back, head lowered to protect his vitals. He backed up, rump hitting the walls of the cavern as he met its end. He remained silent, eyes bouncing from each figure.