A Once-Told Tale: The Wolf Sisters Part Three
Old Gods of Appalachia
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The Littlest of the Three Red Wolfes
The pack tensed and then froze as melvin sprung high into the air, landing on the small wolf with all its weight. And before it could do anything but squeak, he produced from his pocket a small hand carved comb, clearly made of bone. He began to gently comb the wolf's fur, like a proud daddy on sunday morning giving his wife a helping hand. The big black wolf that was miss darlin narrowed her eyes and growled at the other two, who sped off into the night in the direction of the clutch. Miss darnle bared her fangs like nightmares and ared to charge melvin, but found herself looking into a fine silver mirror.
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