Bearclaw Valley dancing with the devil

two things here: evien was cut off, and evien was a scholar of the green things, not only someone who knew their basic uses. merrick's torn ears thrust forward; all his attention was given the other. he enjoyed to talk about himself; he delighted more in discovering someone else, and found that evien was vulnerable below the caution.
but the earthchild's words were chosen too carefully, as if he were leading merrick to a source of groundwater. calculated, like himself. honesty giving way to looser soil. "you sound like you have questions," the coywolf murmured gently, a smirk alighting upon his mouth.
what did fields see in this boy, aside from the clear beauty of green eyes and the loamy hue of a pretty pelt? merrick thought he was beginning to spot it too; a thorn gleaming here and there, enough to draw the sort of blood he wanted. "tell me why you won't go home." no time for secrets; merrick had little taste for polite cobwebs.