Finn laughed and smiled. ”Finn is supposed to mean “fair” but that’s where it’s wrong.” She pulled a face, tongue lolling from her mouth, ”I’m not exactly the fairest in the land.” Finn knew that her mother hadn’t named her, for she wouldn’t have let the double dishonour of being given both a male first name and surname. Because of Cuhlain, the entire line of the ó Maoláins had petered out, ending with the ignoble death of Mab ó Maoláin at the jaws of a couple starving coyotes.
”Nothing to worry about,” She assured him, ”I don’t think there’s a pup in the world that can move quietly. When I was young my legs were entirely too long to be manageable. My brother had a huge head and paws, and a skinny little body.” Aegnus had grown into himself, though. He had become a hulking wolf by the time Finn left. She may have been tall and long, but even in the best of seasons Finn didn’t have much meat or muscle on her bones. And that was the way it had to be. It kept her quick and agile, able to turn and twist like a cat. It was because of her light weight and slim build that she was able to move quietly.
”I could help you, if you want. Teach you. It’s not too hard to sneak once you get the hang of it.” There was a trick to stalking silently, a mindset. Once you could reach that place, where all the shadows seemed a part of your body and the distractions faded away, you could move like a ghost. It silenced the quibbles and worries and voices in her mind, that place. Nothing was important but the prey, or her objective. Finn only wished that she could stay like that forever.