11-28-2009, 01:27 AM
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The hybrid's dark-tipped ears flicked forward as he caught the giant's voice and he was frozen in mind and spirit, indecisive, for only a moment until he concluded that the reverberations echoing off the alley walls contained no hint of malice. This alone was intriguing, and at the brown and grey wolf's final words he heaved an audible sigh of relief, exaggerated to the point it could be heard even over the distance between them (he was hardly interested in directly approaching just then--he had seen what the gargantuan purebred could do). "Well that's a relief.[/html]
"But to answer your question, no. I caught one of these clowns," his muzzle jerked to the wolf whose organs were no longer internal, "trying to bust into the place. He took off pretty quick when I confronted him about it, but I decided to follow his trail here." He shrugged a little, figuring the rationale behind his action was obvious enough: he wanted to make sure there was no trouble in the future, i.e., he strolled on in one morning to find the door busted in and the entire summer's worth of work up in smoke.
Here he trailed off, regarding the massive man warily. "So how about you, eh?" Jantus had stated that he hadn't gone looking for trouble, but Anselm didn't think anybody could deny that trying to score bud and winding up killing three young men was perfectly legitimate or normal. He wanted to see if the mountain-wolf's story checked out first before proceeding further. Although he was frankly thrilled that he wouldn't have to face the experienced, club-wielding fellow in combat, he still had no idea what he ought to do next. What exactly was the protocol in such a situation? Oh, hey, you're all battered up and I'm bleeding all over the place, there's a pile of dead bodies around us with the count at five, and I really don't know if my brain's had time to register what even happened. Right.