Even if they were not kin, Ezekiel would have pardoned a child for such an offense. He was not so blinded by pride to forget the tests that small ones forced on their guardians. The pack he had spent time with had many children who tested their boundaries with similar displays. If she was older, he would have disciplined her. For now she was protected by youth and her mother’s watchful gaze. Ezekiel did not think himself so mighty to overstep very clear boundaries.
With Elijah still perched in the crook of his arm, Ezekiel followed after the colliewoman. She walked with a light, airy step. If she had not chosen the path of a healer she would do well as a hunter. He was reminded of a cat’s walk, though there was no subtle aggression within it. Forest cats were so often terrible and cruel. If any of this small family reminded him of that, it was Elvira. Even as her mother placed her into the birds-nest bed of blankets, the girl glared at them with pent-up violence in her eyes. Like her odd brother, Ezekiel felt the same wariness rise in him. Most certainly, these children were wrong. He gave no sign of it and placed the boy next to his sister, despite a wide-eyed unreadable expression at such a thing.
He turned and followed the woman back down the stairs and towards her workspace.
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