Silvertip Mountain The ripple effect

Mason listened carefully to what his Dad had to say about the plants. He had no real questions to ask – Fitz had explained thoroughly and succinctly. The son smiled and nodded to show he understood.
 
Zaria was another matter. It appeared neither of them understood her. Whilst Mason was sure his Dad was being somewhat exaggerate in his explanation of her current mood, the boy had also noticed something more exceptionally waspish about his step-mother. Mason had never heard his Dad talk so candidly about his relationship, or feelings about something other than the pack. He would not complain – he was glad his Dad was starting to treat him like an adult. “Maybe she’s upset about something, or she thought they fancied you.” Mason didn’t like to point out how splendidly his Dad had taken Mason’s liking for Zaria (when he finally found out). He had never acted possessive, even when he potentially had a reason to be, so Mason was surprised that Zaria would act jealous when the tables were turned.
 
 Mason turned his nose to the plants and wandered over to have a sniff. “hmm.” Mason attempted to remember what exactly the use of these was. As he did so, he continued their previous conversation: “She should know she’s got nothin’ to worry about…” he murmured thoughtfully, openly suggesting that his Dad was an honest and truthful wolf. He had real memories about the Bindi and Raissa thing, as it had all happened when he was so young and Bindi had since disappeared.
 
“Is this the one that stops the bad smells gettin’ into wounds?” he supplied with a querying look at his father, orange eyes resting lightly on golden ones.