Firefly Ravine i want to be fed every night the breath of extinct creatures

Grayday huffed, an expression of rueful consternation crossing his face. Probably that young upstart who'd barged in and started yelling at him. The other - Twill - had seemed reasonable enough, but Grayday couldn't think of the girl's mother without a sour taste in his mouth.

Still, he didn't hold that against Heda, who had been just as polite as Twill and perhaps even more understanding. He still thought it kind of strange that she was sticking around, talking to him. He hoped she wasn't looking for a companion - Grayday had enough kids to worry about, and there was nothing like a humorless woman to help him keep ahold of his desire.

Not that it wasn't there, of course. The wind was swirling both their scents, so he was sure she could tell. "I'm glad to hear it. There's enough danger in the world even without wolves turning against each other," he said, his voice not quite steady, but he decided to blame that on anger.

Standing, Grayday shook out his pelt and turned away from Heda to pace toward a nearby stream, keeping his side to the surly woman. He wasn't sure why it seemed like a bad idea to show his back to her, but he knew exactly why he didn't want to face her head on. "I thought we would be safer over here when I moved the pack. Come to find out there are assassins in every quarter. One of our young boys, Burr, was brutally murdered in a forest to the south. No clues on who did it, no reason for it. Just senseless violence. It's everywhere." His voice and expression darkened through this speech, and his voice cracked a tiny bit on the last word as grief threatened to close his throat. The male lowered his head to drink from the stream, not trusting himself to go on until he'd gotten ahold of those memories.