08-31-2011, 11:24 AM
The speckled half-wolf lay on her stomach near the front of the gathering, to allow others to see over easily if they arrived after she. At the mention of Brute, she felt her skin prickle, remembering the little terrier in his dishevelled hovel. She should have known, something had felt wrong about him. The next piece of news, she felt, should have been even more disturbing; but she had no idea who Keese was or what had happened, and before she had digested the information the topic had changed to pack bureaucracy. Caspa frowned; she half wanted to ask for more details about this Keese, but she supposed if the King did not see fit to include any further information about the sad - or possibly happy, she had no idea - event, then maybe it wasn't important.