
Ivan's mouth opened in a muted shriek of denial as he felt the soft muzzle of the wolf brush against his wrist. He was frozen in place, his hands raised in fear until the sound of the chains falling into the shaded grass rang in his ears. Slowly he let his hands fall to his sides and as he removed them from his vision he watched the wolf turn and leave, heading back to the company of her friends. Ivan bit his lip, that had gone exceptionally well compared to his usual encounters with others. He lifted his right hand as he ran his fingers through the cool grass with the other and placed it over the patch that guarded the wound that had once been his right eye. His body shook at the painful memory and he lowered his hand into the grass. His lips moved slowly under the belted neck of his jacket, "No, that wasn't bad..."





