Redhawk Caldera Koozie jacket

Wooops didn't realize it was my turn!

Alyx busied herself with studying a jagged bit of rock on the ground, listening but not really looking at Phox while he spoke. She kept replaying the frightening moment when he launched himself at her in her head. Sure, it was part of being a wolf—it wasn't like she mistook his intentions as an attack—but her father had always been so mellow before. A bit of a doormat, in fact. While he had frightened her into never saying as much with his dominance hold, she thought of him as little more than that now, because if not for Niamh and her weird belief that Rusalka was dangerous, she thought he would have let her go. She thought Towma would have, too.

He just did whatever Niamh wanted, and she'd developed sincere (and unfair) doubts that he would stick up for his kids if it meant going against her, and that made it kind of hard to have faith in him.

She realized suddenly that they were both looking at her, and glanced sheepishly between them. She'd expected—hoped, actually—that Q would go ahead and make the decisions so she didn't have to talk much, but her sister was giving her that courtesy instead. Damnit. Uh, hunting, I guess, she murmured. At least if she didn't start having fun, which she was determined not to because she wanted her dad to feel a little bad for how he'd treated her, Q and her would both benefit.