but in his voice I heard decay

[Ezekiel de le Poer]

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     He had been unable to find Cwmfen, and his concern for her lingered still. That was why, even though it might have as well been a death wish, he continued to linger near Dahlia’s borders. If he spotted anyone besides the black Adonis he often ran. After several weeks his endurance training had paid off in a big way—not only was he much faster now, he could run longer then he had once been able to. Now he could run up the mountainside without stopping if he so chose (and often he did, just for the thrill of it).

     One of the Dahlian wolves had spotted him this afternoon, and so Ezekiel had run off again. The pace had slowed as he got further into the neutral territory. Though more often then not the boy stayed in his lupus form, he stopped and made the shift to optime on a whim. Stretching his arms over his head the coyote yawned widely and shook his bangs out of his face. He had gone on for about ten minutes undisturbed when he spotted the orange and white male near the tree. Curious, the coyote slowed his approach, but continued to move towards him.

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