Swiftcurrent Creek Anagram

The scarred female averted her eyes, and Bazi felt terrible. What kind of wolf brought attention to a physical flaw within minutes of meeting someone? It wasn’t as if Tuwawi could do anything to disguise it, nor did it have any impact what-so-ever on her physical competence. Recent memories of her own pristine reflection in the still waters of Duck Lack came to mind, and Bazi gritted her teeth against the urge to say something else - ”you can hardly notice it”, which was a lie, or ”it tells your enemies that you’re not to be messed with”, which it did, but who wanted a reminder of past battles etched into one’s face?

Thankfully, Tuwawi was gracious enough to let the blunder slide, and shared a snippet of pack history alongside her warnings. Bazi nodded, eager to move on. ”I’ve never had a close encounter, but that was my mother’s approach, too - strength in numbers, better to ward off an enemy than sacrifice a limb. I’m not much of a fighter,” she admitted, but that much must have been obvious from her size and lack of scars.

”So have you and Njal...been together for a long time?” These were waters unsailed for Bazi, whose experience with the vast and wonderful world of dating and mateship was limited to observing her parents. Shar-Kali was private and reserved, and their interactions in public did little to communicate that they had been a mated pair for over six years.