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Of course, it was hard for Kian to trust. Perhaps this was why he was alone after all. He would smile and act friendly, doing whatever he could for the sake of others, but he didn’t trust as easily as it’d seem from the outside. Always wary, always questioning, he hadn’t originated from a sheltered nest of love and comfort. Even now, he’d gone and agitated the she-wolf with his views, causing her to become distinctly annoyed with him. Always, she’d defend her father, the man she adored and whom had raised her from puphood, and he knew this well with absolute certainty, but his point of view was perpetually limited by his own experience. He didn’t know a thing about what she’d come from, and his judgment was biased. “I agree—le’s speak o’ some’hin’ much more favorable,” he said. “An’ I nevar said yer da wasn’ a good person,” he added, just to clarify for the girl. “’Ow ye find it ‘ere? Ye don’ smell like a wolf pack, bu’ that don’ mean much, now does it?”
After a brief delay he added: “I’s unlikely any pack would accep’ a dog like me, yeah?” with an amused snort. He was amused at himself in a sickening, dark sort of way. He accepted who and what he was, but others didn’t always seem to see eye to eye with him regarding this. He was a dog, after all, and he looked like a dog. A canine like any other, perhaps, but he could never even try to pass for a wolf even they wanted to judge on appearance alone. Now this girl, on the other hand, possessed dog’s blood, but she could easily pass into a wolf pack. The only distinction she had was a peculiar coat pattern and blue eyes characteristic of certain northern breeds. Even her ears stood upright—unlike his that folded down and back against his head.