Sun Mote Copse Stop and stare

There was something so endearingly earnest about Fluke. Wildfire wondered about his age, guessing that he was a yearling, maybe two. Already she could feel herself developing a maternal protectiveness over him. She wondered if she would develop this sentiment for all the wolves who chose to join her flock of Firebirds. She supposed she would. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

It faltered when he described his former pack's nomadic customs and penchant for thievery. Stealing food was bad enough. Wildfire blinked when he mentioned that they stole children from their mothers. She stopped and stared at him when he cavalierly mentioned that he didn't know if he'd been born to the pack or acquired like contraband. She blinked, swallowed and continued moving, pausing to rub her paw pads against a tree's rough bark.

"That's... awful," she said haltingly, not wanting to insult the family Fluke said he loved. Wildfire thought they sounded monstrous but she decided not to pursue the subject. In fact, she didn't know what else to ask him about himself, so instead she wondered, "Would you like to know anything else about Firebirds?"