The Sunspire and you will witness what the fire can undo

“the –” oh. caught mid-word, renard's mouth fell shut. they eyed her. they’d heard human stories, everyone had. it wasn’t a leap to connect no-fur (how fun) with that. “i wasn’t raised by humans.” the curl of their lip somewhat disturbed their smile. being ordered around by humans, of all creatures? and like that? might as well bare your throat to open jaws.

“but you were?” it was not a condemnation, just a question. it could be, with time. “if you prefer dogs, you chose an interesting place to run off to.” donovan’s dog blood hardly made him less vicious. if it had, he wouldn’t be the one ruling. maybe some of them just had more to prove – he’d been so eager to see another curled tail, back on the coast.

renard felt no such thing.

at her next question, the curled edge of their lip dropped straight back into their catlike smile. theoretically, renard had no problem either; it was the donovan portion that stuck. “i’ll leave him for you and nemisis,” they said, in a voice that betrayed nothing of what they thought about that conflict.