There is always feeling that comes with being watched. The eyes were more than they seemed to be. They were a portal to the mind, a tunnel to the soul. They not only take the images of the world for themselves, but the eyes give off this...energy. Anselm has grown rather accustom to this feeling. His mother had told him of it, had trained him to understand it. It may not be anything at all, but the combination of the senses telling one self that someone is near. Anselm did what was taught of him. Give the one who lingers near by nothing. Do not allow them to think that you know of them. He had proceeded as he normally would.

The thing was dead laying at his paws. The life had drained from it. It was an ugly thing. A thing so different than himself. And yet, he was quite different than anyone he had seen...save from Heyel. No other wolf he had seen was pure white. White like the brightest of sunlight, gleaming beautifully with ease. He looked not like his Mother or siblings. No, he looked like the Great Heyel. Anselm felt a distinct difference between himself and the others. All others. Other wolves and other creatures. The lowly creatures, unworthy creatures as mother calls them, He is curious to how their innards work. Curious as to why they work as they do. Why is it, that they have these pounding, gushing parts in their bodies? He wants to know...if all things have similar parts.

But how is he to find this out? Simple. By killing and ripping open flesh. Just as he did to the lizard below. He had almost forgotten that someone was lingering nearby. He hadn't thought anyone to really be a threat as of yet, but that may just be a naive notion of a puppy. The thought of ripping outsides and letting the air wash over them...it was a rather...tantalizing thought. He was starting to feel the urge to explore more, into others, and it was something dark that lingered deep within his bloodline. A thing that was passed down from generation to generation, combined into one that is He and his Siblings. This blood lust, was only starting to sprout within him.

His white ears flicker at the sound of the female making herself known. Yes, there is someone else here, and he supposes that he should deal with whoever it may be. It was not like him to have visitors. Mother was a violent, angry woman. She didn't like others lingering near the den, and would bare her fangs at anyone who dare look at him and his siblings. He almost feels the urge to do the same, and subconsciously, he allows one of his puppy fangs to slip from his lips. His ears fall back a bit, and his eyes give a slight narrow as his orange streaked violet eyes turn to land upon the female puppy.

She looked remarkably like his mother and sister, well, at first glance. He could have almost mistaken her for Ayal. Black pelt, fading into grey. Yet this girl is different in many ways, as he notices while looking at her through a single eye. She is tainted with brown, and touched with white. What is more interesting is her eyes. Each one is obviously different. Mother would consider something of this sort...impure he am sure, but he has been told that all other are impure, unworthy. Anselm, wasn't exactly like his mother. He felt a more primal sense of judgement, one that each individual obtained. He rather liked mis-matched eyes, at least in this moment.

The white boy was within himself, sitting upon his haunches. He was not relaxed nor particularly tense. He did not sit with his head high, like a king filled with pride. Like his brother and sister, but nor did his hold it below like a useless omega. He was as neutral as a puppy could be while sitting, staring at the girl who so confidently approached him and his little....experiment. His white tail lashed a few times before curling around his paws. Why is it, this girl has come to him? His mental question might have been answered as her sweet voice rang into the air, but alas, she did not speak Latin. English. The lesser of languages according to Mother. A language she refused to speak around him. He had picked up words her and there from others. His siblings were a bit more...open to exploring and talking with others, but Anselm often explored by himself if he was not by his Sister's side. He only stared at the girl, turning his stark white face towards her completely, giving her a look almost like that of judgement. Just slightly. It is possible that the puppy would never notice such a look upon another, often times puppies are unaware of facial expression.

He does not understand her words, not exactly. He understood that 'you' refers to himself, but anything else? Nothing. There is a silence for a moment, as he looks over her carefully. She motions to the carefully torn body of the lizard at his paws, and his eyes follow her motion slowly. It is lifeless. It is dead, gone, and he wonders what it is that she wants to know about it. He ruffles his brows slightly, his tail lashing out against the dirt once again.
"Aperui illam. Quia mortuus est."
(I have opened it up. It has since died.)

He lingered upon the body a few moments longer, his muzzle lowering in a little bit closer. He smells the insides floating in the air around it. A stench that he would one day find even more...appealing. His violet eyes moved upwards looking at her once more. His body lifted his puppy form up, taking a few steps towards her. He tilted his head slightly, sniffing her and taking in her scent. The scents all upon her. So many, just as many are stuck upon his own pelt. His face, was not a friendly one. It held no smile, no kindness upon it. If anything, it was dark, serious, at least in this moment.

"Quid est, quod vis?"
(What is it, that you want?)

He will stand before her, his shimmering orange-streaked violet eyes gazing into her own mysterious orbs. Mis-matched. Her eyes are different, and he could stare into them for hours.