For as much as Elyas talks of disliking humans, he doesn't hate spending time in their cities and towns. It's where their children are and he actually likes the children! Now if the parents would just let their children wander into the woods, Elyas would never have to see the adults outside of ripping their insides out! Plus the towns, especially, are so cozy at this time of the year. And some of them start to put up decorations that he likes to look at (and will probably now spend the rest of the day describing to Silvio).
Elyas is glad, too, that he allowed Silvio to talk him into going into the village. As much as he wanted to go, he'd been apprehensive. What if some of the hunters lived there too? Could Silvio be entirely certain that there were no hunters waiting for him in the village too? What if they just wait for fifty or so years until they can be sure those hunters are dead?
But Silvio had assured him that those hunters live in the city. Besides, it's not like Elyas is some fragile little thing! They just surprised him last time, that's all. He won't let them get the best of him if he sees them again. And, of course, he also has Silvio.
When Silvio comes to sit down, Elyas is sitting in the center of what was once a neat pile of leaves. Now, it is nothing of the sort. Some leaves, he's crunching in his hands (only if they're nice and dry) while others, he's carefully pulling apart and throwing up into the air like confetti. Or throwing over toward Silvio, though the pieces just sort of flutter to the ground not even a foot in front of the fox whenever he tries that.
"There's already leaves under your mattress and in the couch cushions." He thought, maybe, that between the open doors and Elyas, himself, always smelling of outside, Silvio wouldn't notice the scent of the leaves inside. But then he stops what he's doing and frowns over at the wolf. "Did you move my leaves like you keep moving my food?"
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Elyas is glad, too, that he allowed Silvio to talk him into going into the village. As much as he wanted to go, he'd been apprehensive. What if some of the hunters lived there too? Could Silvio be entirely certain that there were no hunters waiting for him in the village too? What if they just wait for fifty or so years until they can be sure those hunters are dead?
But Silvio had assured him that those hunters live in the city. Besides, it's not like Elyas is some fragile little thing! They just surprised him last time, that's all. He won't let them get the best of him if he sees them again. And, of course, he also has Silvio.
When Silvio comes to sit down, Elyas is sitting in the center of what was once a neat pile of leaves. Now, it is nothing of the sort. Some leaves, he's crunching in his hands (only if they're nice and dry) while others, he's carefully pulling apart and throwing up into the air like confetti. Or throwing over toward Silvio, though the pieces just sort of flutter to the ground not even a foot in front of the fox whenever he tries that.
"There's already leaves under your mattress and in the couch cushions." He thought, maybe, that between the open doors and Elyas, himself, always smelling of outside, Silvio wouldn't notice the scent of the leaves inside. But then he stops what he's doing and frowns over at the wolf. "Did you move my leaves like you keep moving my food?"