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The old Inn hound had raised up to a sitting position from his bed of soft rags and straw, awakened by the noise of the other animals and the feeling of fear and apprehension that roiled in the air about him.
Wolves! He shook himself fully awake at the word. And they were bent on attacking The Green Man! The old fellow gave a few low barks just to warm up his throat. Then leveraging his old bones up so that he stood, he raised up his grizzled head and began to bay. Long and deep the keening sound came from him, traveling far afield.
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White Paw was hard on the trail of the creature. His strong legs had carried him a ways from his two companions. A sound crept its way into his focused hunt, bringing his head round to the direction from which it came. His eyes glittered in the dim light beneath the trees as he recognized it.
‘Father!’
There was danger at the Inn; his father had given the warning call.
He could not simply run back to the Inn, though, abandoning his two companions to the creature. White Paw wheeled about and ran back to where they now stood with a third man. Legs set stiffly beneath him, he barked out a warning.
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