Ezekiel did not live in the Mansion, and thus was oblivious to the growing number of oddities within it. He had made a point to visit this area when he could, but he disliked the building and had little reason to tromp over it. Enkiel served as his eyes and ears there, and the newest member, the coy-dog, had a habit of babbling about everything and anything to anyone.
He was, therefore, oblivious to the additional puppy within the clan but not to that of the goat. It was apparent in scent as well; he smelled the horse and goat long before the man approached. Amber eyes trailed to the dark shape, wondering exactly how much wolf had caused the color deformity. Max was no different; his dog blood was responsible for the pale fur and the way his tail sometimes curled. Both bloodlines existed within Ezekiel, however, and their instincts were as strong as those of the coyote. Socialization was one of them.
“Angel,” the golden coyote replied, and shifted in the water. He motioned for the man to sit, assuming that was his purpose in coming here.
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