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THE WORLD WAS human, pine-scented, a peaceful sort of dark, with the persistent background chirp of traffic, car horns and the occasional high-low wail of a distant siren.
These sounds meant little to the wolf. They were merely distracting elements, like static getting in the way of a radio frequency.
He surveyed his domain, calm, in control, and at peace as the subtle fingers of the wind caressed his back and haunches.
With the wind came the occasional twitch of a critter in the nearby shrubs. Those were the sounds he focused on, and he turned his head in an attempt to identify them by scent.
A shift of wind direction from the northwest brought a startling and disconcerting new smell to his nostrils.
He paused, turned to face it and let out a low, guttural growl.
There was another. And it was close.