Barrow Fields i am fire bleeding smoke

When the female descended to the reeds he watched her with the same curiosity as before, but he was still quite wary. Many times the strangers he'd encountered used bizarre tactics to ease his defenses only to come for him — he had learned quickly of the brutality of the fullbloods, their tenacity and their cunning.
There was nothing here to protect, though. He could not smell meat, could not detect blood in the air, and continued to wonder why these creatures circled him like sharks; it wasn't until the yearling spoke that Firuz gathered the truth. Or, the truth that was being put forward to him — that this was a fluke, and they were all on edge.
He scoffed with a soft exhalation, but after a moment took a tenuous position on his haunches where he stood, as if to accept the woman's reclining as the brokering of an uneasy peace. Firuz was still uneasy, so he did not lay low, and remained poised to stand and bolt if the need arose.
But, again, he noticed something. She's from the sea, he observed aloud, and turned his amber gaze upon the boy with a slight raise to his blocky snout, as if to invite him closer, but he was merely trying to get his scent. You are not. Not working together, then. Or maybe made to look that way.