04-03-2009, 08:14 PM
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The air felt peculiar. Ezekiel had realized that not long after he had begun to make his way home, having left the woad-painted female behind. He ached from their play-skirmishes, which he had (as of yet) failed to mention to his father. Coupling the two sessions was more then enough to cause the skin under his fur to be bruised and sore, but he understood the need for such strenuous and involved work. His body would adjust.
What perturbed him was the sensation of being watched. It had begun not that long ago, and it was a sensation that set his hair on end. While he could not justify the feeling, he was certain that someone had to be out there. Someone coherent, sentient, that was aware of how to stalk and tail a living creature. A predator, of no doubt, and one that for whatever reason found interest in the coyote. Ezekiel, in his lupus form, was no doubt at a disadvantage against anything larger then himself. He stopped, quite suddenly, and his large ears swiveled wildly. There. He heard something.
To be more precise, he heard someone. [/html]