Sleepy Fox Hollow The way she goes, Bubs

Anselm's brow furrowed deeply. It was usually him on the barrel end of insults, exchanging them freely as one breathes. Being the target of such vitriol was an unusual turn of events, and unpleasant, too.

It was not so nice being on the receiving end of rhetoric.

How could she castigate him so effectively? He refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing he was bewildered by how quick witted she was. He was shuffling in the court of witty riposte; and she the artful fencer and deflector of every heavy hitting swing.

You think I am the reason he is not vith his family? Anselm scoffed. He wanted so badly to share what Etienne had shared with him -- but as he notched the arrow that would surely penetrate her heart, he realized loosening it would hurt Etienne, too.

This mop-faced funsuck -- He drew to his full height, fur barbed. be Anselm Sonnenwasser. Etienne is my packmate, you ... sassy frick. He came here of his own accord. Maybe he just likes looking at me better than you.