Whitewater Gorge Hydrogen

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Lycabas had never before met a wolf like the princess. Not just in her position, with her titles, attendants, and unspoken authority, but in her demeanor. She was unfailingly kind and generous, both of which were beyond his comprehension, and she did not display a single shred of annoyance at his blank-faced inquisitiveness. It was quite the opposite, actually.

Her response made a lot of sense to him, so he nodded. Of course, she would want to say things that others wouldn’t know to say for her… I’d still prefer for them to talk for me, though. They were just different wolves.

What’s that? he asked, unwilling to repeat the word she’d just spoken. This was perhaps indication enough that he had no fellahin.