Hushed Willows I keep an eye on the chamber door

You must be forthcoming. Ephraim had never been any such thing in his life. Once upon a time, he would have described himself as frank. When he and Tux had been pestering the pack's captive on the beach, he would have described himself as such. Now? He knew it had been a lie. When he just barely more than a toddler he became separated from his family and was taken in by strong warrior wolves who ought to have instilled in him some pride. For a while, he thought he had it. For a while, he thought he was one of them.

It was an expertly crafted lie on both his part and Drageda's. He wasn't one of them. Could never be one of them, because of his birth.

But he didn't attempt to lie to Olive, even though lying was what Ephraim seemed to do best. The lies were all to himself, of course. He rarely lied to others. Not yet anyway. I don't know, he quietly admitted, sweeping his long tail around his flank and pressing back his ears. Maybe? I hope not.