Phoenix Maplewood i don't care what you think as long as it's about me

he gave the other young wolf a long, measured stare—but said nothing, for once. no, he didn't have anywhere else to suggest. he, too, had found shelter in the first place he'd seen. and as the yearling began to speak of body heat, surya had to grudgingly admit that the air between them was growing warmer. the outside cold was fading away.

i'm surya, he replied, and shook his head. it's okay. you're right about the heat—i feel better already. he resisted the temptation to draw nearer still, loath to crowd the other wolf and to lose his own precious personal space. it reminded him of a whelping den, drawing to mind memories firmly rooted in the past. so comforting. . .

he cocked his head, having not yet noticed anything odd or different about his newfound companion. the lighting was too dim and the nook too tight to take stock of anything but the faint outline of the other's face. what are you doing out here? surya asked. do you not have a pack to shelter with?