Greatwater Lake What is a weekend?

She looked to him, waiting as the coyote translated her lengthy words into something he'd be able to comprehend. Her gaze turned towards him, seeking the expressions within his face. No doubt, the decision would be difficult. One was risky. The other less so, but it did blur the lines between reality and what he might see as this "magic" he was so against. She preferred calling it "alternative medicine" as it did still account science and not mysticism, but she understood not every wolf had the explicit training she did. Explaining what was beneath the skin and muscle was difficult to understand.

"I can do nothing unless you give me explicit permission to do something," she replied. His continual utterance of "no magic" was noncommittal. Either he wanted her help or he did not. No doubt, having to serve as this wolf's proxy to make the difficult decisions was a fate no wolf should desire, but it was a reality all the same. She'd given him two options. He still had a third, to do nothing, but that choice was his and his alone.

Her gaze lingered upon his own as she waited. She'd not pressure him one way or the other, she'd already told him her preferred treatment, but he did need to make a choice of some kind. Ultimately, he could not choose. She dismissed herself quietly and left him to his wolf.

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