Terra claimed that their wits made them stronger than strength did, and Vesper thought better than to call her out on her choice of words. Instead, she nodded idly. The Boreas wolves had learned just what smaller bodies could do; she still tasted the blood of the one she’d dragged off his horse, still heard the last gasping breaths of the one she’d strangled, still felt the stinging in her cut fingers when she bared the throat of the sub-commander. She hadn’t accomplished all of that because of her size, not at all. Her blue eyes flared coldly, and for a second, her over-the-top aggressive posture grew dangerous.
But the moment passed in an instant, the heat-scent of the other rolling toward her as the emerald-eyed coyote spun away. Her words drew a predator’s smirk to Vesper’s lips, and the Centurion lifted her head cockily. “As a crime fighter, I don’t think you should have said that.” She grinned ridiculously then bounded at the other, leaping for her back and trying to bite her scruff. She knew the other’s energy wouldn’t permit Ves to catch her that easily, but a chase would do her some good.
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