Swiftcurrent Creek dogs howling at the moon

There was a healthy pause that came before she spoke, which meant to him that she was interested enough to consider her answer instead of throwing one at him, and her retort elicited a thoroughly satisfied and knavish grin. I assume nothing, he’d then replied without lingering on the subject. He half-hoped she could handle him, and her minute stature did not necessarily mean he could handle a Fox/fox.

She allowed him close without moving a muscle and proceeded to answer the question posed to her with a level of detail he hadn’t expected. She unravelled what turned out to be a fairly fascinating story, from which he gleaned numerous details about her, particularly the bit about how she’d stayed because her interest had been held. He didn’t skip over the plot points either, and he firmly thought Lethe had probably done them all a favour by throwing herself into the river right along with all her instability.

It might have come down to the fact that she was vaguely perceptive enough to recognise that the rest of them were followers, but there was something he liked in her answer besides that. Given that teeny-tiny stature and her youth, it took a measure of moxie and steely backbone to reach for that very high place in front of others who likely did have earned confidence in their capabilities.

Bold move, he said seriously, tilting his head a little as he considered her with a little more of the approval he’d given her before although she’d done nothing but use her voice. Work smart, not hard, was in essence his modus operandi in life, and by abiding it she’d taken up prime status that could only be ripped from her by her own doing if her followers were really so loyal to her. Did you yawn when no wolf dared oppose you?