02-10-2009, 03:04 PM
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OH HAY GUYS.
The voice had drawn him in. Ezekiel did not always follow Siobhan, but something had felt peculiar. For well over an hour he had been keeping his distance, staying downwind and using the skills that Tristan had taught him. Four legged (a form far more apt to stalking), one might have imagined he was a full blooded coyote if not for his age—this betrayed the fact he was not fully grown, and still had some more weight to gain.
Amber-gold eyes trailed the white figure and the man with her. It was only as the wind shifted, carrying that familiar voice, that he realized who it was. Even though Ezekiel had not spent much (nay, any) time with his uncle, that did not mean he would not recognize him. Something far more diabolical was in that voice though, something that made Ezekiel’s hair stand on end. A growl grew in his chest and his eyes became ferocious—revealing the truth of his lineage. It took him only a few seconds to close the gap and place himself at Siobhan’s side. It was a protective stance, one that he had taken with her before. She would understand what that meant. “What are you doing?” He hissed at his uncle, untrustworthy of the peculiar feeling and the madman’s eyes. [/html]