Blackfeather Woods plating

the frame that unfurled was brindled and long and soaked with mud. 

not a wolf. certainly not the prodigal prince. another dog. the wolf's body untensed. she tossed her ruff with an amusement that felt misplaced. what was it about the flatlands that drew so many of them?

"do you speak?" she asked in the firm voice of a charge-nurse. nala had told stories and gucci never stopped talking in that drawling charm of a voice.

she found herself thinking of him fondly for a moment and then put the distractible thoughts aside. the man from akashingo was close but she would not let down her guard. dogs had teeth too.