Whitefish River You got to make me

Belharra and Mal weren't exactly on the best of terms. This might or might not be an understatement- the last two times they had seen each other, they had come to blows physical and verbal. 

Belharra reflected back to what made it so. She had been traveling in a forest ("his forest") and found a kid needing help.  Next thing she knew, Mal was snarling at her face to get out. She wondered if Mal extended that courtesy to everyone else, or if it was just her that got special treatment. 

Belharra wasn't going to follow him, as delightfully irritating a midnight jaunt as that seemed. He was rankled enough a poke or two might set him off to full-blown postal. At the sarcastic quip Belharra's ears fell. She could spit it back in his face if she wanted to, but on principle, Belharra wasn't one to send a kick in a man's direction while he was down. 

Stubborn is just another word for survivor. I'm still here, aren't I? She looked him over, a slow grin spreading across her face. Mebbe ye shoulda recruited me, and not all those lackeys that flounce off at a moments notice. Her eyes softened as a realization came upon her. Any time she had interacted with him, he had been surrounded by males. THAT was why he didn't like her, wasnt it? THAT was why she hadn't been recruited when other way less competent wolves had been? Thank god it had nothing to do with her (un)pleasant personality and all to do with, he just didn't have proper taste. Ye don't swing for my team, do ye? Makes sense now I think about it. Where's the boyf? She looked around, half expecting his male posse to burst form the bush any second - but maybe that was why he was so out of sorts.. Maybe he and the boy band had taken a nosedive?