Sleepy Fox Hollow Get my pretty name out of your mouth

I don't think I'll ever really trust anyone but you again, Wylla admitted, a cold grimace tugging the corners of her lips down. Trust was unlikely to factor into many of her decisions going forward. Stjornuati had recognized potential in her, which was more than could be said for most, but much of him reminded her of Mahler. It would be a long time before she could ever trust that the cream-furred northerner was different than her former beau, but as long as he led his pack fairly, she could make do with that.

It's a place to start. If it turns out we don't fit well there, there may be other options. She pressed the edge of her tooth against her lip, thoughtful. If the Watch wolves were to be believed, the fairies were gone, which meant they would find neither safe haven nor trouble from them. Even if they were the best option, Wylla didn't think she would be able to bow her head to any wolf claiming to be a fairy. Besides them and Rusalka, she knew of no packs in the vicinity.

I might scout a little further and see what else there is, she said, faraway, like she was speaking in a dream. If you want to check the Watch out, they're on a ridge down the mountain. If you go down to the foothills facing Nova Peak and follow along the mountains toward the coast, you'll have no trouble finding them. Alternatively, he could do whatever he pleased. She had come here, to Sleepy Fox Hollow, to torture herself some more. Maybe he had plans of his own along the same lines. She hoped not, but she wasn't naive enough to think this wasn't hard on him, as well.