Wapun Meadow With big meaningless eyes and tongues like fly paper

He expected to be chided or accused, not addressed like a familiar acquaintance. Ashlar's head lifted briefly with surprise and hope, and the hope fluttered more when he was told what the other Wolf wished. T...t... to talk? Jus.... just that, 's all? He asked, feeling his stomach flip as the familiar halting stutter ate his words. Whatever fight he'd summoned the last time they met, it was clearly gone now.

But the shadow of it lurked in the knowledge that once, he had somehow asked. Once he'd held it and allowed it to drive his head high.

It was lost now to the worry of what might come; that as with the coyote, they would choose some target to be the random victim of a bloody chase. That it would be another pack in equal parts assuaged and alarmed him further. Surely.... surely they would not do this to a fellow wolf. But to Ashlar, a coyote was not so different, and he dropped his gaze nervously.