Barrow Fields a victim of love rather than hate

ah. that made more sense. he hadn't necessarily expected the second question, though, and he pursed his lips, trying to think of how to describe why he'd set off such confusion in cam's mind. at least he was a wolf, though. cam knew how to deal with those. sort of.

your head is weird, he finally offered, a cryptic little nugget of observation. it doesn't look like the rest of you. he lifted his chin, then twisted his head to nose at his flanks in illustration, looking back at the man with a shrug. see? i'm all dark. you're not.

every other wolf seemed to match. why didn't this one match? what made him so special? whatever it was, cam was more than intrigued.