Sun Mote Copse long time the manxome foe he sought

Elfie's anger seeped into every word that came from his mouth, each hard and jagged. Sugar felt her fur prickle a little as he spoke to her, comparing her flowers to corpses. Despite his harsh tone, she quietly considered his words. She supposed it did kill the flower, though she didn't have any qualms with that, no more than she did with killing prey for food. Nor did Sugar see the problem with leaving a deer's head on Colt's grave as an offering, although it would be a waste of good meat. Flowers were simply more sensible for quite a few reasons. Her head tilted as she pondered this.

When Elfie took a step toward her, offering to show her where people went when they died, Sugar didn't understand it as a threat. She knew he didn't mean well by it, though, not with the contemptuous look on his face, the snide scorn in his voice. She continued to look at him, though she shifted slightly, betraying her uncertainty. Why did Elfie treat people this way? Avery had done nothing to deserve it the other day, nor had Sugar done anything wrong today. She decided, silently, that she disliked her cousin whose fur matched his temper.

Bronco intervened, stepping between the larger pup and the smaller one. Were they really going to fight? Sugar didn't want to see Bronco hurt (or Elfie, either, for that matter). She still didn't understand the roots of this altercation, though she shook her head slowly and finally found her words.

"Please," Sugar said, voice small but even, "stop."