Whitefish River all this on me

It wasn't the first time Riley was subjected to the accusation of being stupid. It didn't make it any easier. The tell-tale hardness of her eyes sweeping into low realization, followed by a flash of something superior and smug was all too familiar to the boy -- Spica was just like any other wolf who came across him and instantly made him feel as if his station was beneath their feet. The only wolf who hadn't done that so far, come to think of it, was Orlaith -- Riley's eyes narrowed as he registered the accusation in Spica's voice.

Besides the fact that it was rude to call someone a liar and/or stupid, it hurt. Riley was tired of being lessened, reduced, drawn to some insignifcant power: he wasn't stupid, and he wasn't a liar.

It took several painstaking seconds for him to compose his reply. At first his voice was shaky, but by the end of his methodical speech his delivery was victorious and proud. "Are you having a bad day, or are you always a bitch?"