The Tangle pray for the wicked on the weekend

As she explained, Phoenix felt the dawn of understanding bloom with warm embarrassment inside his chest. It was only on principle did he remain rigid, seemingly unwilling to give her the pass so easily. The news that it had been a coyote was especially helpful, feeling a bit biased towards them himself, yet he kept the edge of his bladed manners pointed at her, his copper eyes gleaming with quiet mistrust.

"Fine," he grunted, falling into a dissatisfied sit as he watched her hawkishly. "I guess you're just adapting then." He'd never met another wolf besides his father who'd had to overcome something about themselves they couldn't help; but it helped him better understand and accept her predicament, albeit with some haughtiness.