Firefly Ravine how lonely to be something nothing wants to kill

Furi smiles when he does, albeit weak and tired. She doesn’t realize how much energy she’d lost in the outburst until it creeps up on her, hiding behind her eyelids and it’s evident as she lazily turns her gaze toward him. It isn’t the same stupid, angry boy that happened upon her and Arrille but the goofy kid she’d met in the tangle. If it hadn’t been for Arrille, they could have been friends from the start but now? Can she call him a friend when they are supposed to be enemies? When his own wolves turned her friend against Drageda, enough to pit a war against them at their weakness?
 
Ingram doesn’t act like the type to do those things, or maybe doesn’t even know at all.
 
She tightens her jaw and nods. We’re okay, she repeats to herself and she thinks of the wolves of Blackfeather Étoille told her about. They were like us.  
 
Maybe they’d be okay. Maybe they won’t. Maybe, next week, they’ll be tearing each other’s throat out. For now, Furi is content to share a moment with someone. A moment of exposed vulnerability to a stranger and a bond she can’t take away.
 
“Still wasn’t that great,” she tells him and her smile widens, genuine, “it’s just not my type.”