Stone Circle Brill

No.

Swordfish recoiled, frowning.

What did she mean, no? The prey he offered her was a step away from roadkill. He had worked it to pieces with his teeth. Bjarna didn’t want it, or she didn’t want to hear him talk about it. Whatever it was that had drawn the monosyllabic response from her, Swordfish would never know.

The next word was to ask if he was hurt. The young wolf drew his snout up and gazed down the length of it at her. He was not certain how to answer this question, so simple and yet so broad in what it covered.

Better, he tried to offer her. Riverclan had helped. His work with Moss had helped, too.