wild thing
#7
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Pack borders? Max inhaled tentatively and sure enough he could pick out a mixture of scents and markings that could only be defined as the scent of pack. The grey-white boy shook his head slowly, ears flopping about ever so slowly with the motion. “All I saw were the giants and their strange pet that I was chasing,” he described for the older male, though it was probably unnecessary.

Like always Max's imagination ran wild and he perked up at the thought of the small, shadowy figure with big floppy ears. “We have to find it!” Max insisted, looking around as if he might spot it out of the corner of his eye again. “If we hold it hostage maybe the giants will bargain for it and give us something extra good, like a great ancient secret,” he said “-almost like a recipe but better-” Max added on matter-of-factly in case the stranger didn't get what he was talking about, before continuing “a recipe to make our own special pet or to tame other evil-er giants.” Max finally fell silent, holding his breath in anticipation to see what the sandy, red-tipped male might say.

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