let's go to the hills, where the outlines are clear

Nope.

Once again, Whittier was taking the long way round to success. He would get there eventually; he was slow, not hopeless, although sometimes Bazi did wonder. She tutted under her breath, giving Whittier's porky little body a gentle nudge with the side of her muzzle. "Go on now," she urged when he was pointing in more or less the right direction. Bazi sat back to watch, feeling oddly anxious.

If all else failed, she thought, perhaps Whittier would be able to fall back on his charms. His mother had no doubt that the sweet, fat little face that he used to control her would translate well into adulthood - he would attract a sweet, obedient girl and do his duty as a wolf.

Or he would roll onto his back one day and simply die like that. At that point, it was 50/50.