Sawtooth Spire I'm not the one to normally play the fool

As always, Quellcrist responded with her particular brand of eccentricity. At first Wylla was too struck by the absurdity of her posture to react, but the sheer volume of Quellcrist's voice soon had her pulling her ears back. Maybe that was why Ainhoa chose to skedaddle. Wintersbanes' daughter certainly was an acquired taste. Luckily, Wylla could appreciate a loudmouth sometimes.

What is it? she stupidly asked, poking her head into the cave to have a look. Spacious interior, clean walls, cured hides piles on the floor, and apparently it was for her? It was quite possibly the first time in Wylla's life that someone other than her brothers or Mahler had gifted her something. And it was something practical to boot. It was unusual for her, but she was overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotion that followed this realization.

It wasn't in her nature to be anything but skeptical, so she turned shimmering eyes on Quellcrist, doing her utmost to hide them behind a stern expression. It didn't work. Why wouldn't you keep this for yourself? she asked. It was a great home. What compelled Quellcrist to give it to her, of all wolves? They didn't even know each other well and she'd been a touch severe with the yearling at the borders.