Silver Moraine [m] I a[m] the edge of the blade,

His words were met with a slow blink. Wed? A word she did not know for what it was. But the words she shared were not echoed. And that meant something. 

No anger, no disappointment—perhaps she had known this, too. He had been her test. He had almost become her choice. 

Tikigâk swallowed the fire that burned in her throat. 

She recognized then that perhaps she was not the only she-wolf he would have lain with. How many cubs would he have, and to how many women? Logic sought to sink its claws into her—but her hot-blooded instinct…! 

Her tail lashed. The man that takes me, she rumbled, is one man—strongest man. Of will, of body. With me, we raise stronger children. Together. 

Ears cupped forward to receive his words. With you, or not at all, she rumbled. And reasonably, he could turn his back on her—for the better, perhaps. But there was no upset within her—only tempered and logical practicality. 

Not the most attractive trait, no—but she was far from an attractive woman to start. Not inside, nor out.