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	It seemed that the wolf was in no condition to attack, too weak to even snap like a wounded animal often would. It simply whimpered softly, twitching some, eyes falling closed while Mikeal caressed its head, its neck, slowly searching its body for a wound that may have been the cause of the animals suffering. But there was none. No blood, no sign of broken bones. Nothing. In fact, the animal, aside from behaving as if it were injured, appeared to be in perfectly fine health.  

‘What is it, boy?’ said Mikeal, in a low, soothing tone. 

It was then that the wolf lifted its head from the road, slowly bending its neck to regard Mikeal. Its eyes were no longer heavy, frightened or hurt. They were wide, glaring, and glowing a hot and furious red as it pulled back its lips to reveal its teeth with a sharp reverberating growl. 

Mikeal, filled instantly with fear, attempted to back away, scuttling and slipping on the dirt and grass in his effort to escape. But it was far too late.