Nova Peak breadfruit

The man’s explanation had the effect of a heavy-swung guillotine — it stopped Riley in his tracks.

His gaze swept over the scar lines and open face of the stranger; the measureless black eyes, the cowl of muted swan feather on his nape. How could he know? Could he scent the puppies on his pelt? Riley liked to believe himself logical, so he assigned to the man the talent of having an unusually sharp nose.

There are no pregnant wolves here. Riley found himself saying, suddenly growing uneasy. He wasnt sure he could share there were puppies, until he understood this man’s intentions. If they haven’t yet been born, how can you search for them?