Firefly Glen Why you always seem in a bad mood?

“Kidnapped?”

The word hung in the air, incredulous at best. A troubling thing no doubt, but he found reservations lingering. Not that he didn’t believe any wolf belonging to the Saints was incapable of doing such—he certainly believed it was possible. Wolves of their brand were more like a fungus, cropping out only to be taken down only to come back once again with a vengeance. Maybe it was less a fungus and more of an infection, but the distinction hardly mattered.

His eyes went to Mesa then, picking up on his words.

He withheld the cutting glance—he wanted more information.

“Let's not be hasty—why does Mal think she’s been taken? Could she have run him off and might be laid up somewhere?” He couldn’t recall if he had ever met with Neverwinter’s second-in-command, couldn’t put a face to her name even as more of their pack filled in the space behind him. Perhaps she were every bit of a goliath like Kynareth for all he knew.