The Floodlands a seal didn't bite your linus off, did it?

Colt had to fight the urge pretty hard not to snort when Finley spoke.  Wasn't the willingness to give your life for the pack sorta the minimum to even being considered a loyal packmate? And the rest of them had been what, jerking off the entire time they were in Blackfeather?

But he heard her out, every last word.  Until she got to the end, when he did give an audible snort of laughter.  Not cruel... tension-breaking.  Amused.

"Frog, you may be ready to throw in already, but that doesn't mean I am.  You got it wrong... it isn't that I think high of you.  It's I don't think much of her."  He said it flat out, though his tone dropped a bit once he finished, almost apologetically.  She might see all these great things in Towhee, but to Colt, she'd been unfriendly and unsuited from the start.

"She isn't interested in diplomacy, isn't interested in growing the pack, and from what I've seen, isn't much for talking to those who aren't you guys.  But maybe that's what you want."  He shifted, uncomfortable now.  "I didn't mean to start shit.  But you know I could never keep my mouth shut."  Finally he stopped to look at her, silently questioning.  Were they still gonna be good, or had he screwed that too by getting himself booted?