Swiftcurrent Creek And do our talking with a laser beam

"n-nothing," he mumbled, ears assuming that same downcast position again. "i j-just — was t-tired of b-being a s-stranger."
now in pathetic display he lifted his ear, prepared to pretend as though he had heard something which might hurry him away — he was saved by the true appearance of several ravens, cawing to one another as they raced toward a far-off thing.
"i've g-got some w-work to do. h-hunting. n-nice to m-meet you, mae," the mayfair stumbled, backing, turning; he hoped she would let him go, let him be strained and maddened elsewhere, away from demands he knew were hers to make.