Duck Lake cloud shadows on the mountain and our shadow on the mountainside

He's a little surprised by the question, but the feeling is quickly overwhelmed by his more judgmental tendencies; another trait inherited from his mother, though he'll never know. I should've expected a stupid girl to ask stupid questions, he tells himself, ignoring the way the thought makes him feel even smaller and uglier than before. If there were wolves living here, they'd be ripping you apart right now, He tells her, voice icy. There is a lingering undertone of "and so would I" to his words, but he leaves that unspoken. They wouldn't stop, even if you begged. You should remember that, he almost adds, but he doesn't want the girl to think he's concerned about her or anything. He's not.