Northstar Vale tea leaves

"Maybe," he allowed, for her sake, but he thought that it was a damn shame they were gone from her. Kids needed their parents. They needed them long after they were done being kids, he was pretty sure. He hoped they would find her before it was too late for them all —

But these things happened.

His ears fell back in distaste. Grandiose was a word he associated with his own kin, and he didn't like hearing it applied to wolves instead. Yet he knew what she meant. They were a different sort of grandiose; the kind that sought power over others rather than in oneself.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said sincerely, with more feeling than was required of him. He had not yet experienced that sort of hurt, but he feared it so well that he felt that he knew it. Wolves — he liked them less every time he thought of them. "I'll keep your warning close to my heart. They won't suffer the same. Maybe that will help you rest."

They had to look out for one another, they coywolves. He hoped it would bring her some peace to know that she'd done her part.