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[/html]Myrtle had never expected anything like this to happen. Certainly, it was not until that foolish Infernian coyote had mauled him that he realized how terrible this war truly was. But never had he anticipated that it would suddenly become so real, and so frightening. Myrtle cowered behind a tree, letting his claws scrape dully against the bark. He did not know what to do. He could see Dahlian wolves scrambling to do something, but still, he wasn’t sure what he should do.
He had been hiding behind that tree ever since the Inferni wolves had entered Dahlia de Mai territory. He hadn’t known what to do. He had been far too afraid to do anything useful, and he had simply stared as they burned down the building. There had been the one who had attacked him, but there had been more coyotes, more! More than he had ever seen before and most of them (with the exception of the leader) looked like they were coyotes through and through. Unlike Myrtle and his brother – wherever he had disappeared to – who were perfect hybrids, these coyotes were not. They had moved with such assurance and swiftness that Myrtle had been unable to move; he had been paralyzed.
And now, he still did not know what to do. He watched as a boy, perhaps his own age, began running around frantically and grabbing human items. The wolf had even sent out a howl for help. But it was not until help arrived that Myrtle felt he could emerge from behind the tree. He approached the group quietly but quickly, realizing now that he could help, even if he had been too scared to do anything before. He arrived in time to hear each girl pose a question, both of which Myrtle had been wondering as well. What could he do?
“I weel ‘ehlp!” he declared, anxiously. He bent down to pick up one of the pots that was lying on the ground, holding it firmly in his hands. He could do this.