Swiftcurrent Creek We are not the same, with or without

A voice drifted into her fuzzy consciousness and drew Wylla's head up slowly, like it was being tugged on fishing wire rather than lifted by her neck. There stood a wolf in a coat of pure brown with brilliant green eyes that brought Thade to mind with a pang. Kiwi's were much brighter than her son's, but the mere shade was enough to stroke her heartstrings, at least until the bitch opened her big, fat mouth.

The Wylla of a few days ago would've reacted stupendously to being insulted in such a fashion. The Wylla of a few days ago was a highly self-conscious beast with a vain streak, but the Wylla of today was unable to rise to anger. The self-consciousness was all-consuming and had devoured nearly every last piece of her confidence and happiness, leaving her unable to even deny that she looked like shit or care at all. The Wylla of tomorrow would be worse off after seeing Mahler, so Kiwi was lucky to catch Wylla while she was still able to feel anything at all, even if it was muted.

And there was a reaction, albeit one that wasn't customary for the previous firebrand that was Wylla. Interesting that a wolf the colour of hot diarrhea would say such a thing. A grimace twisted her lips into a black squiggle, but her eyes remained flat and her tone deadpan as she replied, take you all day to come up with that?