Horizon Ridge your anger is frightening the sand

"Nope," rejoined Wylla as she came to a halt on a tussock of marram grass. The ridge was a wreck and a half now, but she bet it was pretty magnificent before it crumbled. She paused to look back over her shoulder at its shattered edge and caught Furi's eye for a moment, then issued a tight smile. Felt weird to have someone around who wasn't a problem. Felt weird to talk nicely to anyone besides her brothers, really. She ought to be nicer to folks.

Nah. They usually did something to deserve her being mean to them.

"His name's probably Dickweed or something, the way he acts," she said with a sniff, "but he tricked me into meeting some wolves that called themselves Cairns. Don't know much about them but they were huge jerks, too, so bet he's also a Cairn." Raptor didn't really resemble Sandpiper or Smokestep in any way that mattered, but who was to say they weren't related? After all, Lycaon and her couldn't look more different from one another. "You don't really look like him," she assured the Drageda wolf as she dropped her head to sniff at the grass, then struck out onto the coarse sand. "Just from far away. You're obviously prettier that him and don't smell like ass stuffed with vomit. Fur's different, too. Sorry I mistook you for him."