Barrow Fields i am not your carpet ride, i am the sky

caiaphas believed, for a second anyway, that she had caught the man carefully considering an answer -- why? the length of time made suspicion instinctively stir in her belly. he could be lying, or scheming, or worse --

but then she reminded herself not to be hysteric. it was simply a loaded question for most wolves -- and honestly, wouldn't she give the question the same selective attention?

the male's answer - after so ponderous a study - was anticlimatic. she did not hide the sag of her shoulders or the flinty narrowing of her eyes. there wasn't much to go off of there - but he didn't smell of drageda, and even if he were somehow a doublecrosser, she suspected that was too clever a design for their kind. powerful warriors often were not powerful tacticians - and it would have taken weeks for them to bleed their scent dry of his fur.

she resigned herself to believing him genuine - at least until proven otherwise. "a helpful answer." she replied somewhat flippantly, though the edge fell from her tone the further she spoke. "i'm from the sound - it's back there. we're settling down for the winter. if you got nowhere to be.. and you help me carry this load back, you could turn that 'nowhere' into 'somewhere'. if it suited you." she supposed she should mention the irascible neighbors.

eh, at a later date.