The Heartwood Everything, everything, everything.

Ciri had not expected Shikoba to be so persistent, if anything she thought the earthen she-wolf would take her dismissal at face value. Instead she made to scrutinise her: "eyes don't lie, Ciri."

The young Ostrega twitched her tapered tail-tip, her anxiety budding. She blinked, feeling frustration rise in her gullet. Why was it that wolves were so insistent on sticking their nose into the business of others? Why did so many feel the need to push and push, when their input hadn't been requested?

Ciri grit her teeth together, feeling the want to snap at her. It would be childish, she knew, and she fully believed she would cry - a weakness she was unwilling to show. The raven-furred girl stifled the beginnings of her anger. "Please," she ground out, "don't." Don't make me say it.