Sequoia Coast how many centuries deep is your wound?

It’s not him. Then Blackfeather? He shouts anther word but she pays little attention since she doesn’t know it, but he goes on and rotates between common and their own. None of her questions are being answered in a way that gives her enough and she growls, snarling back at him. His front legs have locked in joints and pressed against her, making it difficult to stand over him. She pushes back, resisting the shove and tries to angle her nose down and snap at his legs, hoping to get him to relent and bend before he stands. “Hod em!” she snaps at her daughter between the clashing of her teeth.