quite eradicated
There was an influx of strangers these days, half of whom belonged to the family or the clan as a whole. Ezekiel hardly had time to himself these days, and when he did, all he managed to do was sleep. Such naps were short and often interrupted, but he had managed to get through two hours without interruption. Luckily, he had woken before the call came—he was still in his home at this point, but rose to the call swiftly. Without Sage, the duties of leadership fell on him alone. With a grunt, Ezekiel pushed himself up.
On foot, the journey took him only slightly longer than expected. The air was chilled today, but his pelt was grown-in and plush (and wolfishly thick). It kept the cold from every part of his body save the exposed skin and scars. Scars, he found suddenly, that were almost mimicked on the stranger on horseback. Between his pink skin and odd form of dress, the coyote didn’t know what to make of him. Foreigner, he decided, assuming this would be the easiest explanation. Those from across the sea always seemed peculiar to him.
“You need someone?” He asked, certain that there had been a summons in there, though it was nameless.
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