Redsand Canyon restless

The damn woman finally did it; he let out a guffaw at her empty praise, ducking his head with eyes filled with mirth. He met her gaze after a few moments with an expression that might have been bashful, in a younger wolf. But he was in his fourth spring, now, and he had nothing but amusement verging on scorn for the coyote girl.

"Ladies, and some men, too," he jested, smiling wryly. As if on cue, Cortland appeared by his side quite suddenly, and he cast a glance to his companion, looking more sincere as he turned back to the woman. "As for hunting, miss, I'm afraid that's not one of my finer points. Manners, however, are, but it seems I've forgotten them. My name is Phocion, and this is my friend, Cortland."

He gave another bow of his head, ears canted forward in curiosity. "Tell me, what's a young woman like yourself doing all alone out here propositioning strangers, hmm?" the white priest parroted her, his voice straddling the edge between playful and cruel. He once had a sharp tongue, and he felt the intense urge to wield it now. . .but hold back, hold back, the elders had told him. Beaten it into him. He was kinder, now.