Sheepeater Cliff The dark of summer

She felt somehow small beneath his sharp, amber eyes as he studied the wound, her own pale eyes darting left, then right, then left again to avoid returning his direct gaze. When he surmised that she would heal, the smallest of smiles tugged at her lips, only to slowly fade. She let out a long, low breath, instinctively moving sideways when he bounded up to join her, with notably more grace. She did feel a bit awkward about the proximity, yet in her embarrassment, she simply accepted the situation.

He reached out to sniff noses with her and Koontz held very still, eyes questioning. This time, the smile that flickered over her stony face was involuntary and authentic. "A minute ago, you said it would heal," she reminded him, "and now it's going to fall off? I think you're a quack," she said in a tone of disapproval. "Do you even medic?" Koontz added teasingly, using an informal wordplay her elder brothers often used on her. "Do you even science?" had been among their favorites when questioning her brains and, when her brawn was up for debate, "Do you even lift?"