Heron Lake Plateau Who do you love?

"A nomadic pack to the east," she answered promptly, relieved that the other seemed to be a bit more open to her, now. That was her impression, at least. "I'm only just a yearling, but my dad was really serious about hunting - he's been teaching me since I could walk, and I was a core member of the hunting party by the time I was six months old. I was also my dad's guide - he was blind - and I went on a few diplomatic missions with him. More as a guard than a diplomat, though."

Her rap sheet wasn't all that impressive - especially because she hadn't exactly been raised to understand ranks the way a lot of wolves had. A rank in Morningside was not a measure of the esteem you ought to be showed, but of how well and often you put the pack before yourself. She - and most of her line - were humble by nature and nurture both, and she did quite know how to say that she'd been as respectable a member of her birth pack as any child could be.

She ignored Tegan, on the theory that if she just pretended not to hear him, he might get bored and go away. She'd track him down when she was less focused on putting her best foot forward - since, of course, there was no way to do that while goofing off with her childhood friend.