Because of this, Zion crouched lower into the bushes, hiding himself completely. He even closed his eyes, relying not on sight but on his other senses, trying to feel his surroundings. His breaths grew shallow, his heartbeat steadying until it was as calm and still as water.
"What's this? Giving me attitude now?" Greg sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Ha! Just because you're the master's favorite, you think you're above me? Not a chance. You're nothing but a mutt—fetching bones when the master tells you to. That's all you'll ever be, understand? Mutt!" He spat harshly to the side, venting all his anger on the gray wolf.
Yet the gray wolf showed no reaction, not even a flicker of emotion. His expression remained cold and unreadable, golden eyes narrowed in focus as he silently scanned the surroundings, every muscle taut with vigilance.
