Fortunately for Slade, his story had taken away the awkward silence for a moment, but unfortunately it returned after Evelyn told him what she knew about Skye. Slade didn't have much extra information to offer about the Capitana, and he hadn't been asked to tell anything. Thus the coyote was left wondering how he could come up with a nice little narrative out of the blue, and tried to apply that unknown reason to conversation starting. Ah, if only....
Evelyn hadn't seemed like the type of wolf who would put up with a silence for a long time, which she proved by coming up with another question: Slade's rank. Oh boy, this topic again. Even though the very simple answer had been "I'm a writer," things had changed. There were new ranks in the pack, as he had mentioned earlier; what had they been called again? Now that he tried to think back, he wasn't sure. There were, what, traditional art ranks, performing art ranks, merchant ranks, and even livestock ranks. That was all he could remember; had Skye told the exact names of the ranks at all? Had she even told each individual member what their new rank even was? If so he couldn't remember.
Usually his problem with this question was that he was a writer who couldn't write. Now the issue was that he had absolute no idea whatsoever which rank he had been put in after the changes. He was left unable to talk for a good while, trying to come up with how to answer this. It was no use making something up, but if he admitted that he had no idea he'd just sound stupid. Eventually he decided to use a short and to-the-point answer: "Writer." Well, he wasn't lying; he didn't say that he was a writer at this very moment. Slade had a feeling that Evelyn would push the subject, but he'd have to come up with more answers when she did.
Why could he narrate events that had happened months ago and answer difficult questions without too much hesitation when it took him forever to start a conversation?
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