Believing she meant the kneeling metaphorically, Ezekiel nodded at her words. Viggo had proved a challenge and still was, though he had begun to accept the coyote as his leader and obey his commands. That was, of course, only when riding. Often on the ground he was stubborn and had little cares for what the gold and bronze male might say or do, finding it amusing to play games with him instead. Enkiel, though, was much smaller—physically, he was hardly intimidating. It was simply his mannerisms that perturbed Ezekiel.
The names humans used for their lands were so peculiar. Japan, from what Ezekiel recalled from its mention in a book of demons, was a land in the east. He knew little more of it than that, and did not grasp the true distance or time of her journey. “I think I read about Japan once,” he said vaguely, feeling no need to speak to her of demons or devils. “You sound fond of it,” Ezekiel added, heading down the rise and into the swiftly growing grass that by summer would brush against the horses’ bellies. “Why did you leave?”
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