Dragoncrest Cliffs there goes the theory that an english accent makes everyone sound smart.

Wildfire didn't push the issue, but left it open for him if he one day decided to take her up on the offer. Artaax said nothing in response to that, merely... Well, I can't even say that he catalogued the sentiment into his memory. He was a stubborn boy, and he had decided to be the pack's Wormana. That was the end of the story for him. He didn't need to remember the door remained open on this other possible future.

"No," Artaax answered, even as blood continued to dribble down the side of his head, "It only got my ear. It was trying for my eyes, I think. I got its wing and broke it to get it out of my way so that I could get at its neck." He'd taken care to aim for the base of its wing and sever its ability to use it as a weapon to batter against him. Sort of. He'd mostly just slammed into it with wildly snapping jaws and managed to get a lucky hit on it. But he remembered it differently.