The Tangle pray for the wicked on the weekend

His reaction didn't make sense, but he didn't seem intent on attacking her so Lavender took that as a win. What he said was a bit confusing until she'd rolled over again, on to her front, and remembered the now-soiled pelt she wore. This? She murmured lowly, with a shrug that made the pelt jostle, This isn't -- I didn't do this. My dad did. And it isn't a wolf, it's only a coyote. The more she spoke the more confident she felt, but after the flow of words ended she gave pause and looked at the dirt. It was easy to understand where his misgivings came from - but a coyote was a pest which meant they were fine to target. I would... I would n-never wear a wolf pelt, that just sounded -- ugh!  Her stomach rolled with the implication. I just.. Get cold.