Bramblepoint Lethal poison for the system

What would you like to know? Now that was the question. What didn't Wylla want to know? If she could get away with it—that is, if Hydra wasn't in attendance—she probably would have asked things like, "where are your caches?" and "what's the fastest way down the mountain?" After all, the name of the game was Life, and Wylla wanted to win it with as little effort as possible.

But Hydra was in attendance and struck her as a more severe wolf than Galaxy in nearly every way, so she played it safe. "What sort of pack is it? Family? Friends? Random strangers trapped together, forced to make nice?" There were an awful lot of packs out there like that, including Wylla's own natal pack, which no longer existed. She thought that was the best way to live, without the tethers of friendship and love around her ankles.

Then again, Wylla's only friends in life were own wayward kin, so it wasn't like she knew any better. What harm was there in testing the waters? Turning her thin muzzle to the prettier Hydra, she gave a toothsome smile and said, "actually, I am."