Lion Head Mesa And which is to remain unknowable and unremembered

For a short time, the boy enjoyed his meal in silence, but his thoughts never left the cost of all this. He would have to repay these Akashingo wolves someday for feeding Ursus, at the very least. The floral fragrance of their tunnels rendered him noseblind, and their keen eyes on him made his pelt prickle, but for all his distrust, Ramesses and his lot were generous. If the roles were reversed, Aventus was certain they would have been made to camp outside Silvertip Mountain and provide their own food.

Soon he would learn of the pleasure palace that was Akashingo, in truth. Ramesses beckoned forth a small creature, and only then did Aventus realize the servants were in fact coyotes. Intrigue and disgust alike curled in his throat as he pinned his eyes on Jawahir. He thought it must be due to the flowers that he couldn't tell by scent whether Jawahir was a male or female, but assumed from Ramesses' suggestive tone that she must be a woman. A woman he meant Aventus to ... engage?

But she was a coyote. On several occasions he had killed coyotes for the lesser creatures they were, and felt open disdain for them, despite the way their blood made his body feel. That same confusion swirled in him now, stoked by the temptation Ramesses subtly offered. All it took was a mere suggestion and he could feel heat pooling in his belly with an insistence that made him shift in place. It was wrong, wasn't it? And yet ...

Are all your jewels coyotes? he wondered, ignoring the way his ears grew warm with Jawahir's steady eyes on him.