Emberwood and i don't think that i hate me, but

thorn nearly flinched as he saw the reaction his voice caused her -- taken by surprise, she scuttled back -- and thorn found his ears fall to his skull as he watched her.

she looked wretched -- positively wretched -- and he felt a faint stirring of empathy, even pity, for the female. yet these feelings never cured a sick wolf, and he was quick to push them aside with a business-like frown. "what is wrong? did you eat something?" he sniffed the air carefully, detecting nothing but overwhelming bile in the yellow heap that sunk through the snow.

"do you want me to call for someone?" she was not so far from the creek -- and need be, thorn was willing to provide her a shoulder if she needed help returning home.