Ankyra Sound There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon

Ephraim didn't mean to bring Raleska so low with what he said; he watched, distressed, as she sank into the sand with a moan and covered her face with her paws. His dark ears swept back and his throat bobbed, but for a long time he didn't say anything. He was trying to parse the meaning of what she said. He didn't recall her scent on the sand or in the grotto when he found Caiaphas here, so how could it possibly be here fault? The devil in Ephraim was sorely tempted to agree with her, shift the blame elsewhere, come away from this scot-free, and maybe in another time or place or with another wolf or having killed someone else, that's exactly what he'd do.

But Raleska's pain was poignant and it was his own and he could no more do that to her than he could launch himself at her and declare her an enemy. Whatever happened between their mother and Thuringwethil to breed such resentment was in the past. Ephraim was not Thuringwethil, and Raleska was not Caiaphas, and he would not perpetuate a war where everyone lost and no one won. She was not the enemy and he would not make her one, not to him and not to herself.

When he was no closer to understanding what she'd said several minutes later, Ephraim asked in a voice ragged with weary emotion and exhaustion, what do you mean? How in the world did Raleska imagine she was responsible for Caiaphas' death, when it was his jaws that snuffed it from her? He guessed she was referring to the sickness, but she wasn't sick as far as he could tell... but only as far as he could tell, he realized, eyes sharpening with wary concern.