Wapun Meadow bébé ils ne veulent pas de toi

She didn't answer him. She couldn't.

With a heart thundering away with no signs of stopping, the sudden change of tactics left her off guard. A frantic string of thoughts spun up—had she missed something? She thought she had been alone, left to trod through endless mud and rain and sleet. And she had been.

Had he wanted just to scare her?

As composed as she tried to draw herself up to be, her chest heaved. Ever uncomfortable, ever wary; an answer given most likely to raise more questions.

"Who are you?" Obviously a wolf a bit more rough around the edges than she; he was pockmarked with history to complement the ferocity that burned in a single eye. No small wonder how he got those, she thought. She swallowed roughly, aware of how dry her mouth had become, but her tone stayed soft.

"What do you want?"