They knew one another, for they were both hunters but of different breeds. A fox and an eagle, perhaps. One cunning, the other knowing only how to destroy. Amber eyes gleamed as he studied the dark stranger, sharpening only at the odd term used for him. Yet there was knowledge gained—Salsola’s borders remained closed. Perhaps Sirius meant death for those who defied him. The coyote smiled savagely.
“Kings are not made, waagosh,” he said carefully. “The right to rule is divine. Of course,” the Aquila added, shrugging lightly and almost dismissively. “These are savage times. Is that what brings you so far from home? Surely even such private people must know what goes on beyond their borders.” A push, a subtle challenge. Perhaps the hybrid knew about the disappearing packs, perhaps not.
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