Sleepy Fox Hollow we are just happy to serve you

Surprisingly, Wylla was less interested in Maegi's god than she was the fact that Maegi didn't know why she did what she did. How incredibly stupid, she thought, to devote oneself to something they didn't fully understand. It made sense, in a way, why Maegi believed in it—surely a wolf with a disability as significant as a clubfoot needed to believe there was worth in the defenseless and damned of the world—but to do so without understanding why, that was the kicker.

She shrugged when the Centurion refused the bird and dug in, eating in silence for a second before pinning the pale she-wolf with shrewd yellow eyes. Why do you do it if you don't know why? What was the point, besides needing something to believe in to ease the pain of being a cripple? In Wylla's world, cripples either rose above and made themselves useful or they were left to die and no god took pity or mercy on their soul.

No god took pity or mercy on any of them, so why pray? It seemed Maegi disagreed, for rather than explaining, she stalked off in offended silence. Wylla watched her go with an impassive eye, then shrugged and returned to her meal. Wasn't her problem if someone got all prickly about their religion when it didn't make sense.