Blackfeather Woods want my friend, want my heart’s mend

The only answers the scarred large wolf gave were of things he didn't want, not an answer to her question. She did not care about the things he did not want, she only cared to wager for the life of the dark one. A hiss escaped from between her teeth as she retorted: Not want this, not want that -- but what do you want? Let Shadow go, White Eye, leave us with forest if you not want. Her voice was rough from the disuse; she used it only rarely between her family, as she knew that the dark one did not listen to outside voices that much anyway, and inside voices were much more important than outside voices, anyway.

Meanwhile the dark one's life was still in the weighing scale and the pale youth tensely stared at White Eye, waiting for him to back off, end her life or choose what he wanted in return for sparing the dark one.