see the new moon rising

He began to speak, and Tonravik listened with apt interest. This had been a discussion that they had needed to have, though there had been little time to have it. Now, that time was found. Up until his last words she was quiet, and even afterward, she kept her silence as she thought. He spoke of gaining insight, which was smart, which she could understand. It was insight she wanted. And she did not doubt that her mate had been careful; but then, there were dispersal wolves who sought mates and were relentless in their pursuit. Perhaps she had been one of them.

She thought wrong. She hadn't been too off base, since he had breathed the very word he had taught her. "I do not care that she found you." Inevitably, they would be found by one wolf. Be it her, her pack mate, or another. She looks at the thin line on her foreleg, wondering how to tell him her thoughts. "You would let her run," comes her voice, "You would suggest it after her fangs have touched our brother." This came out in a disgusted snarl, and now her eyes fall onto him. Could he explain that to her? For she would spare none who lay fang against she and hers, and that he could think to... and the injuries could have been worse, had they not arrived when they did, the wound deeper, fatal. But he had showed compassion. It will not happen again.