Dawnlark Plains brick upon brick and up goes the building

Sunny, as a full-blooded wolf, possessed a strength of jaw the sheepdog lacked; she was impressed by the force of his killbite and “howled” her congratulations, muzzle tipping skyward to offer a soft, undulating whisper-whine. To help him, she grabbed and held onto one of the goat’s kicking legs, not wanting him to take hurt after he had so recently — at least, it felt recent to Seelie — recovered from grave illness. When at last the goat stopped moving completely, she released her grip on the goat’s leg and backed away respectfully, with a shooing motion of her fox-fine muzzle that indicated, “Please, you eat first!” Panting lightly with exertion, she gathered her breath to whisper entreatingly, “I — take food, Catori, please?” with what she hoped was a coquettishly appealing tilt of her finely sculpted head. She hoped he would allow her such an honor, but could understand if it was his duty as the pack’s lead hunter; after all, she was only a guest here.