Wapun Meadow According to the map, we've gone about four inches

Grezig wanted answers, but the countershaded she-wolf was wasting her time. Ephraim had not the words nor the want to communicate with her more than he already was. His champagne eyes remained intelligently focused on her nose, neatly conveying that there were cogs spinning in his brain, and pointed ears pressed forward to hear her, but there was no voice to give rise to his answers. Besides, he was poorly socialized and had little voice for anyone, even family. Her last word was a command, short and brusque, and in losing control of her tone she lost his interest as well.

Ephraim didn't answer her. She had set a precedent by not answering his question first, and now he was stubbornly going to refuse to listen to her, too. You're not my mom! Even Caiaphas sometimes struggled to get her buttercream child to obey. Small wonder that a total stranger would fail. He turned instead, intent on seeking his own scent trail in the grass and heading back the way he came. If Grezig insisted on following him, so be it—she was frightening to the toddler hybrid, but Ephraim was certain his old man was moreso.