The fine lines of her body were due to breed. She was a hybrid, more coyote than wolf despite her coat, and he found this something that settled ill with him. It was a simple association with the man who had come to stand for instability. Coyotes could not be trusted, and so despite his otherwise passive stance on this cousin-species, he found fault with them.
Green eyes narrowed as she showed obvious signs of fear. While he was imposing in stature and behavior, he had done nothing to her personally. They were part of the same Tribe, now, and he did not know what to make of this display. The scout’s arms rose and came to fold above his chest, as if he did not know what to do with them. Unused to using this form, it was apparent he disliked it. “Why are you acting like that?” He asked bluntly, accented voice even. There was no aggression in his tone or body language, but one might perceive him as such simply from the brashness of his behavior.
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