Big Salmon Lake french toast

At the word “smell,” Meerkat drew in a breath. If she was meant to discern something other about Kusuma’s scent, she must be noseblind to it. She blinked slowly when Kusuma mentioned her parentage. She knew about coyotes, of course, but she wasn’t familiar with jackals.

I’m not sure, she replied honestly after a slight pause. It doesn’t matter to me—and I can’t tell any difference, honestly—but I can’t speak for every wolf. I don’t understand why it would be an issue, unless there’s some sort of culture clash. You said you lived in a pack before, right?