Eyes the color of a ripe pumpkin narrowed into furiously glittering slits; a sleek black brow furrowed into lines of intense concentration; behind the young wolf, a whip-like tail swished back and forth, an aggressive metronome movement that seemed nearly catlike; fine-boned toes gripped the earth. The onxy lad was hunting. Hunting like a freaking boss.

Silently, RoeVy parted his youth-smooth jowls and sucked in a discreet breath of air, tasting his prey as if he were a slender serpent. The rabbit’s scent made his mouth water and the muscles in his jaws ache with the need to bite, but still Roe restrained himself. He must not act too quickly—he must not let excitement master him—he had to control those erratic impulses of his or else all the stalking and waiting and planning would be—

“I’M GOING TO KILL THE SHIT OUT OF YOU, YA STUPIDASS HARE!”

His quarry bolted the instant RoeVy’s loud raucous voice—blooming in his own mind’s eye as a shimmering cloud of purest gold—erupted in the still almost-autumn air. Roe took off after it like a streak—an arrow—a dark shooting star. Everything about the shadowy boy had been crafted for speed; his skinny frame was long and lanky with a narrow chest and legs for miles. Even his ridiculously handsome and beautiful face looked quick: he possessed the same elegant bone structure as a fox, with a tapering snout and lovely cheekbones carved just below a pair of heartbreakingly mischievous orange lanterns. His ears—plastered to his skull now as he sprinted for all he was worth—were large triangular satellites perched atop his crown. And his tail . . . RoeVy’s pride and joy, a shockingly thin tassel of gleaming black that seemed as if it belonged on a feline rather than a lupine body. It streamed out behind him like a banner of pride while his paws flew over the ground—indescribably perfect in every detail.

“YOU—ARE—MINE—BUNNY!” RoeVy snarled ferociously, slavering jaws opened wide to reveal rows of flawless porcelain teeth. Clods of dirt peppered the air as he ripped his claws into the earth, executing a breakneck turn that would have had wolves of more substantial proportions tripping all over themselves. When the rabbit zig-zagged toward its safe tunnel somewhere in the distance, Roe matched every step. The sound of his own serrated growling edged the corners of his vision in molten gold. He had this—he so had this—

Suddenly the obsidian ruffian collided into something—or somebody—and flew ass-over-teakettle through the atmosphere. Rangy limbs flopped helplessly in the air. A terrifying sense of weightlessness sucked out his stomach. A gasp popped from his mouth like a champagne bubble. Then, utterly gracelessly and with unnecessary comedic appeal, RoeVy thumped unceremoniously back to the grass, slumped in a heap.