guess this is his exit, unless she would chase him. . .
The ground was cold, snow seeping though his white coat and threatening his soft skin. Minos didn’t know what to do next. His heart beat horribly fast, so wildly that it almost begun to ache. Her scent, as odd as it was, grew stronger at her advance and even that did not hold the same purity of a pup. He began to believe she was a wolf, only small in stature. He certainly gave her the greeting that an older wolf would receive, and she gave him nothing to go by. It was a conversation that passed between them, silent as it might be. Minos heard it all very loud and clear, but she did not speak, in any form. Her eyes could not be read, her body nothing more then a ridged figure that moved only closer despite his warnings. She disregarded his voiced remarks, his meek submission. She gave him nothing, even as he tried to please her. He could only manage to believe that the wolf inside had died, or perhaps had never been born. A ghost, a shadow that Minos could not oblige with even his greatest of efforts.
Instead of setting his eyes upon her again, he turned his face, rolling his feet under him and then with his tail between his legs that made rose only high enough to scramble away from the pup without any light of life in her body.