Ouroboros Spine One young wolf has a larger heart than all these men combined

It was Nantahala whose voice touched her ears, and she lifted one to acknowledge her words before letting both slick back against her head. She assembled herself sphinxlike on the rock, keeping her head and neck level on the hard surface.

It’s all I think about. She confessed. That feeling bubbled in her throat like acid, searing against the delicate skin there.

I want to roam. But I also want to stay at home. How silly is that? It didn’t make any sense to anyone with more than half of a brain, but Lightfoot was hardly thinking now. She stared out over the borders, feeling her heart thrum like the beat of horse’s hooves. She wanted nothing more than to run until her feet were bloody.

But she was shackled here by duty, wasn’t she? Duty to the familial, to the pack she called home. That familiar itch in her pawpads began again, and she scraped her paws across the rock in hope of some relief.