Sun Mote Copse When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.

If the Sovereign was at all bothered by Alyx's lack of deference, there was no indication of it. That was how the Firebirds pack work. They were a family pack whose sole unrelated member was Chanel, and Alyx had never met her. That afforded a more lax hierarchy among the members, something Alyx might one day learn wasn't necessarily the norm.

So nothing stopped her from sidling up to the lead she-wolf, where she stretched out her neck and boldly sniffed at the thinner hair on Wraen's leg. The smell of her was the smell of home—made sense considering who she was to the pack. Yaaaa! she agreed at once, sticking her tongue out at the tree, whose boughs pelted the ground below with a few more droplets. Rude tree!

Wraen, it seemed, was something of an instigator herself. Alyx peered up at the Sovereign as she explained why trees might feel a need to be rude. It must be terribly boring to have nothing to entertain oneself with. She supposed she could feel for the trees, but she was still pretty annoyed with their spitting habits. When she suggested being rude back to the tree, Alyx flashed an impish grin. Otay! It was quite unladylike to pee on your enemies, but Alyx was a wolf. A ladylike wolf, she liked to think, but even the most refined of wolves was bound to pee on things. It's what they did.

She rushed over to the nearest root and squatted, but produced only a tiny dribble. Turns out her tank was pretty empty. Oh, Alyx observed, a little disappointed even as she gave her rump a jiggle or two. Nope, nada. Another droplet of water slid down from a leaf and plonked into the space between her ears and she scowled. Can maybe, jus' maybe, can yoooou wee on it? she pleaded Wraen.