Sequoia Coast so long, little chapel

And as soon as the words had left her mouth, someone else had come calling from the timberline. For a split second, Echelon closed her eyes in a manner that suggested I should have known before turning her attention to the wolf that approached. He was older, closing in quickly, and seemed very much more interested in rousing the stout fellow she was near. He broke between her and this Suinnak, leaving her to back away with a true scowl to his turned frame.

But that was when the dark-haired dozer awoke. Her irritation passed like a bad cloud over the sun, this time turned back to the interest of the elder wolf's companion. She watched the display before her… and that interest turned to some weird mixture of disgust and bafflement. Her blue eyes scanned the elder carefully, prompting her to ignore the fact that Suinnak was even awake. “Is he lame?” she queried flatly. Being lame would explain a lot of things, but that also drew the question as to why he was even still alive at all. Her mother had culled those in the litter that had been lame; Echelon had probably scraped by on will alone.