Fairspell Meadow Fine mom

The coyote didn't speak, but instead moved quickly into a oddly submissive form. This was the same posture he himself had used when pleading for his life against his father. Had he really seemed that threatening to the little female or was she just extremely submissive? He shrugged away the thought as she extended her neck. He screwed up his nose in confusion, not really having much idea of what she wanted from him. So he went ahead and sniffed her, getting used to her scent. She seemed excited, as if she was waiting for something to happen.

What does she think I'm gonna do, screw her? And people call me insane. He sneered at his own thoughts and then stepped back to sit down in front of her. She was pretty, for a coyote, but nothing that Thatch would be interested in. He was practically still a teenager, and hadn't reached the stage where he started to really care about girls. Can you speak? Because if you can't I get the feeling our conversation is gonna be very one sided. He made a punny joke, smiling in a friendly manner.