The Sentinels I've got a lovely bunch of stroconuts

They were soon joined by a stranger, a tall and leggy she-wolf with pale fur and eyes. Her voice came out deeper than Peregrine expected. His lips parted to answer her that he didn't actually know when he realized she had not spoken to him. Nor did he really know the answer. She had addressed Deirdre, who perhaps knew more. His eyes slithered sideways to his young caretaker, a pained but grateful smile twitching the corners of his lips upward. She hadn't hesitated in calling either her father or the pack's medics. He wondered if this meant she had fully recovered from her earlier trepidation around Lasher. In his current mental state, Peregrine couldn't recall his friend's latest news on that front.

Speaking of which, the man himself appeared shortly thereafter, immediately bracing himself against the ailing Peregrine. The black wolf relaxed so suddenly and completely that all his weight pressed down on the proffered shoulder. "Shit sucks," he breathed into Lasher's ear as if it were some sweet nothing. This caused an inexplicable giggle to burst from his lips before he groaned and slid further forward, slumping at Lasher's feet and closing his eyes as starbursts of pain exploded in his head.