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

Later, Wylla would blame her uncharacteristic display of emotion on puppy brain and hormones. She wasn't a difficult wolf to read, but that was ordinarily reserved for her negative emotions. Being gifted with such a splendid whelping den for her soon-to-come children had her putting on a watery smile in spite of herself, even though the way Quellcrist described the whole thing made her want to die a thousand deaths just thinking about furburgers.

Thank you, she said in a voice a little louder than a whisper. It was the most she could manage without it cracking. Quellcrist wasn't wrong: sucking up to Wylla was an excellent way to get in the Eisen's good graces. She valued flattery higher than almost anything, including hard work and dedication. A hard working, dedicated wolf was certainly an asset, but gifts and ego boosting compliments were the best ways to fast track oneself into Wylla's regard, however unfair it might seem.

She took a good look inside the den, deemed it more than suitable, and thanked Quellcrist again for all the work and consideration before inviting the yearling on a walk—a rare opportunity to get to know her pack mate without forcing them to endure her usual snark and scrutiny.